Mad Season
by N-I-N-T
Summary: A compilation of one-shots/story ideas. Several different pairings, but primarily pokeshipping. Ch 18: Mistakes happen; maybe not all as big as sleeping with your best friend, but hey, what is new years about if not starting from rock-bottom?
1. Chapter 1: Poke, Hide a body AU

A keep sake of story ideas, a place to drown my ideas while I'm finishing up my bigger projects—that way I can get an idea out of my system without actually making a new story or littering the world with half backed one-shots.

Warning: Many, but not all, of these will be Pokeshipping. I'll have them labeled.

Here we go.

(Also, I may take requests, so leave a review and I'll see what I can do)

 **XOXs**

Pairing: Ash/Misty sort of?

Rated: T

Genre: Drama/Mystery

Summary: In which Ash and Misty hide a body. AU

 **XOXs**

"I can't believe this." Misty seethed in the seat beside him. Ash rubbed his temples. His knuckles were busted, his lip split open, and the swelling of his right eye was worsening by the second. The scruff of his shirt was torn, bloody where the faint resemblance of claw marks were gashed across his collarbone. On a second glance, Misty changed her mind—fingernail scratches—was more accurate.

Even with her searing complaints the last hour since her showed up to her house a quarter after midnight, her remained like a statue in the seat beside her; slumped over like a rag doll. His face was dirty. His eyes were still wet.

Making matters worse, every time Misty hit a bump in her blue, mazda sedan, the _thump_ in the trunk would sound off alarms in their head. A constant reminder of what he did.

"If we get pulled over Ash, I swear to all that is..." She inhaled, calming herself. Why continue? It wasn't like he was listening anyways.

Opposed to Ash's untidy appearance, Misty's red hair was tied back into a tight pony tail, her short bangs bobbed in front of her face, hiding her glaring eyes behind unkempt hair. She wore a yellow tank top and black gym shorts that went past her knees. She was clean, where Ash was _dirty._ Her mouth was turned downward into a sharp frown, and Ash had to lower his shoulders upon glancing at her. Even though she has most likely been sleeping when he had aggressively assaulted her door she was able to change so quickly.

That was over forty-five minutes ago, and the drizzle of rain had turned into a downpour. The persistent wipe of her windshield wipers made him groan inwardly.

"Can you turn those off?" He mumbled, head aching.

Misty nearly hissed; "No!" She snapped. "We don't want to end up like..." her voice trailed off, and once again, Ash drifted away once more.

Carefully looking at her, his head bobbed against the window with each bump of the dirt road.

"You always said if I needed to hide a body, you would help with no questions asked."

"I'm not asking questions!" Misty yelped, quickly surprised _that_ would be her comeback. IT was _supposed_ to be a figure of speech—Brock has said it too, and where was he?! From her reaction, the bruised and beaten Ash recoiled back into his seat, hugging the far end of the car in fear of her anger.

"I'm just..." She stammered, her frustration boiling over into pure rage. "I just never thought that _you_ would..." She sighed, exhaling deeply.

A pause.

"It was an accident." Ash admit fearfully, closing his eyes while his head knocked back and forth from the water sprayed window. It was too dark to see her scowl, her head lights barely made a dent in the fog ahead of them, but he could still see her letter jacket from the swim team—direct contrast to his ripped, black hood.

"Accident or not." She glanced at him, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment. The darkness did nothing to hide her anger. "This is bad, Ash."

"...I know." He said weakly, and ran his shaking fingers through his long black strands.

 **XOXs**

Misty did most of the work once they reached their destination. The rain had hardly let up, in fact, Misty was convinced it had worsened since they stopped the car. Using the shovels from the trunk that she took from her shed before leaving, they spent the most part of an hour digging up the ground past route twenty-four. On a trail that was hardly traveled, where even if the police traced them here, they could not place the tire marks in the rain. Aside from Misty's bland attempt to keep their minds occupied by the worsening weather, Ash was ruined.

Misty may not have been the one who caused this, but she was certainly his only ticket out of this mess.

"Thank y-." he tried, looking at her desperately.

Misty didn't even look at him when she replied. "Don't."

"I'm sorry." he managed, eyes casting to the ground that had soaked the two of them in layers of water and mud.

 **XOXs**

 _It_ was covered in a blue camping tarp that was confiscated from school by Ash. With the rain pelting on their backs, they shivered, but neither could fathom the stupidity of their actions. Misty leaned forward first, grabbing the head, or the legs of the body and heaving.

"Grab the other end." She commanded while lurching the blue tarp forward. Ash did as she asked, his muscles aching as he slid the weight of the body into his arms. They didn't have to count when they heaved; they had worked together long enough that the timing was natural. As they carried _it_ from the trunk of her car, and to the nearly six-feet hole that they dug with their combined efforts, Misty swore under her breath relentlessly.

"Just ease him...-Ash!" She yelled, since he dropped his end in the hole and stumbled backwards. Misty almost slipped into the hole herself, and she would have, had she not released her grip on the tarp. Her fingers locked over her shorts when her glare fell on Ash. Seconds later, he hopped into the hole after _it_ and Misty barked at him.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't leave him covered; what if someone finds him? The tarp is from our school, Misty." He said matter-of-fact, as if this was a _normal_ occurrence in their life. Misty shuddered at the thought—this wouldn't be a reoccurring theme would it?

Oh god what was she doing? Ash _murdered_ this man.

"Ash..."

"Don't." Ash responded quickly, as if reading her thoughts as he tore the tarp off the man and tossed it up at her. She latched onto it for dear life, though dropped it as quickly once the blood traced over her fingers. Misty watched in horror as Ash fished through _the man's-_ because that is what i _t_ was-pockets, and only then could Misty see what had happened.

Ash's neck was bruised—she could see it in the reflection of the water dripping down his neck after he had removed his blue blazer. Beneath him the man, _the body_ , in the unmarked grave was bludgeoned on the right side of his head, bleeding profusely even now. His face was contorted, the rain had all but washed away the blood on his nose; and his eyes were shut. Ash pat his pants down, fetching wallet, keys and jewelry, anything that could link the man to Ash, or Misty, for that matter.

After completing his task, Ash looked up to her with those brown eyes, the ones she had known since childhood that no longer reflected sweet innocence, and stuck out his hand. Her fingers intertwined with his a moment later, and without speaking, the began to bury the body.

 **XOXs**

Once the deed was complete, Misty sighed while wiping her brow. It meant nothing, considering the rain was falling as quickly as she could clear her eyes, but Ash didn't bother. Instead, he flattened the ground as much as possible to give it a natural look and then reared away from the unholy place.

"C'mon. Let's get out of here before someone drives by." He said remorsefully, twisting his hips towards the car, but leaving his eyes locked on her. She watched him carefully, her mind mixed up, but then followed him slowly back to her vehicle, and slipped into the drivers seat. Ash stuffed the tarp back into her trunk, as well as the shovels, and slipped into the passenger seat beside her shortly after.

Inside the car, the hollow whip of the wind stilled, and Misty could hear her heart beat in the silence. Slowly, she reached to the ignition, and started the car. Once she shifted the car into drive, a breath of relief left Ash's mouth, while a sense of dread twisted Misty's lungs.

"Thank you."

"Ash, don't thank me. This wasn't okay." She scolded him, eyes narrowed and mouth portraying a permanent frown. Her old friend glanced at her, pressing his wet hair against the head rest of her gray seats.

"I didn't know who else..."

"The police?" She snapped before he could finish and he retracted his statement and looked away, wanting to rub his neck, but know his injuries would not let him. Misty eased up a bit, releasing one loud, sigh.

"I'm sorry. Just..." She breathed, unsure of what to say.

"I know." he said monotone, knowing that the redhead would never be able to look at him the same way again. He would never look at her the same way again.

He glanced at her, and she glanced back, sharing a brief look before pulling back onto the dirt road and driving back into town. Life would never be the same.

Not after this.

 **Author's Note:  
** Well, that was dark.

I took the "Will you help me hide a body" parody song to a new level. I also took the "if your friend shows up to your house with a body, what do you do?" to a new level.

If I wrote this, it would obviously be a pretty dark fic. I have no idea if this is the plot behind a story on here already, but this is sort of what came out while I was trying to write for my other stories. (what is wrong with me?) I sort of imagined what it would be like for Ash and Misty to hide a secret like this, and how Ash would react if -he- was the one that accidentally did it. I feel like Misty would be that friend that would help with no questions asked; but then regret it later. Brock would be the friend that would be like "CALL THE POLICE". Obviously, they needed some Brock wisdom.

Obvs. Would write more detail if it became an actual fic, but for nowsies. It's this.

Again just a compilation of my thoughts that may someday turn into full-length features. XD Let me know what you think, and if you want, drop a request and I'll see if I can hash that up for you.

NINT


	2. Chapter 2: Reasons to drink

Pairing: Ash/Misty

Rated: M (Suggestive themes, alcohol use)

Genre: Humor/Romance

Summary: In which Ash drinks a little too much. One-Shot.

 **XOXs**

 _Reasons people drink alcohol; a mental list, written and narrated by Ash Ketchum_. He rolled his eyes from his seat at the bar.

The first reason was because of c _elebration!_ To party and observe big accomplishments—or in this case, Ash taking runner-up in the most recent league championships! He took a swig of the rum and coke Gary set down for him.

 _Or, because Misty looked way too distracting in_ that.

The second reason was because of p _eer pressure!_ Everyone loves peer pressure, especially when his friends threw in his face that he was nineteen and still a rookie in the drinking field—most of his friends were drinking before they were sixteen; Ash never found the time for it. Traveling between regions wasn't as easy as he made it out to be, after all. He took another drink, eyes stuck on the female on the other side of the room.

 _Or maybe it was because her shorts were just a little too-short._

Had they always been that short? He swallowed another drink, and swore to himself.

The third reason was because of _sadness!_ If Ash had been Brock tonight, he would be drinking specifically for that—mainly because the older male could never steal a date, but also because he failed his most recent exam at the college—too many girls made Brock mentally a dull boy, and overly distracted. Ash snorted at his own joke, lost in the gyrating music around him.

 _Or maybe sometimes it was because her shirt was a little too small_.

Ash threw back yet another drink beside Gary who made sure his _old friend_ wasn't left hanging before he scampered off for his own adventures on the dance floor. No, they, _his friends_ , couldn't just let him suffer in his own misery, could they? They had to make sure he was actually drinking. He couldn't just pretend to drink as he had in the past.

The final reason was becuase of c _ourage_. Nothing made him stupider, _made anyone stupider_ , quite as quick as a few shots of liquid courage.

 _But who knows,_ _it might have been the way she licked her lips when she stared him at the bar._

She was a horrible influence.

Horrible.

 _Horrible_. He added for emphasis, rubbing the back of his scalp, shying away from her glance.

He wasn't so sure when he started to notice Misty; it couldn't have been recently, they rarely saw each other. Was it when they met Rudy? Or was it when Gary started to take an interest in her?

Maybe it was when _he_ hit puberty? She did start to make fun of him when he would call her—always telling him his voice was an octave too low. However, it might have also been when _she_ hit puberty, and those _curves_ took away the only remaining boy-like features she had left on her body.

 _It might have been when Brock told him that Misty had suitors._

Hell, it might have even been thirty minutes ago when Ash has his first shot of whiskey and she laughed at him for choking on it.

Actually, _and it was probably just the alcohol thinking for him_ , it was probably back when they were kids—he always noticed Misty. How could he not? It wasn't like she was subtle in anyway, she practically screamed for his attention—didn't she?

No, it was the other way around. Maybe that was why he noticed her so much.

She practically _ignored_ him.

Maybe it was the way her shoulders were always higher than other girls—the way her chin poked up proudly, and the curl of her lips: always smirking back at him when she caught him staring — _what?_ Like he could help himself?

This was her fault, after all.

 _"Let me taking you out for drinks_ " She had asked him yesterday. Didn't tell him _everyone_ would be here, though.

And by everyone; the whole damn league might have shown up. Rivals from ten years ago made a fond appearance for his _runner-up_ status. Everyone really knew how to make second place feel like first place.

But that was beside the point.

The point was...  
 _Her long hair flicked over her shoulder as she curled her pink lips into a furious pout at something May said._

What was his point again?

His eyebrows knit together in concentrated frustration, and he focused hard on his thoughts which seemed to race sixteen places at once. Chaos in every crevice of his mind—spinning out of control. He was walking before his brain was caught up, _or the world, for that matter._

It might have been the way she looked at him; not past him, not through him—not up at him—but _at him._ As equals. As friends.

As best friends.

Or maybe more?

What was he saying again? His mouth was uncharacteristically dry, a sensation he only had after walking for several days. How many drinks has he had to evoke this way of thinking? The world was spinning—all of it, the lights were a blur and everything was a mess—everything but her.

"Misty." he mumbled determined to say _something_ ; what that was, he had no righteous hell of the right mind to say, but he wanted to say _something_ to her. Maybe that he disliked the way she pouted, because it was too distracting—or maybe that her shirt was too tight, and her shorts were too short? Maybe it was because she was too distracting, and this was why he didn't like her to visit.

Puberty looked way too good on her— _but that was probably just Brock talking_. Or the alcohol.

"What's up?" She asked forwardly, smiling at him. That damn, sultry smile—beaming with a cool confidence. Mixed with the red tint of her cheeks from the alcohol, she looked like too much.

 _Too much_.

Staring at her sea-green eyes, dusted with a haze of her own liquid courage, Ash felt a pang in his stomach as the world came to a sudden braking stop. _Oh now,_ he toppled over, holding his stomach as a lurch and wave of nausea flood through his system and out onto the floor.

"ASH!" she screamed, nearly making him go deaf as the scent of retched bile found its way to his nostrils.

 _Good job, Ash_. He puked all over Misty's feet, and her legs, maybe some of her blouse? He was too nervous to look up—mainly because he hurled again.

Oh, the wonderful things his friends would say about him tomorrow.

The stories they would tell.

 **XOXs**

"I am _fine_." He muttered into the sink beside Misty—where he had followed her into the girls lavatory for no particular reason other than to apologize a million times and complain that he felt sick.

Oh, and that he liked to tell her this was her fault—since she was the one who bought him the first round. And the second.

And third.

Subtly, _or not, he couldn't tel_ l, he glared at his long time friend with such a snarl that she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

"I didn't tell you to take shots, and I didn't tell you to drink what ever concoction Gary was feeding you."

"Rum and coke." He sputtered proudly.

"Oh lord." Misty grunted, brushing her pale wrist against the sweat of her forehead. "It's no wonder."  
"It hardly tasted like alcohol." He was suddenly very close to her, watching each wrinkle form under her eyes as her face scrunched up. She pushed him away.

"You should _really_ not be in the girls bathroom." She grunted in her defense as she watched another woman leave, glaring at Misty and Ash.

"Meh. It's cleaner in hereee." he slurred eagerly, nearly falling on the sink. Misty sighed, watching her old friend stumble about like a... _like a drunk_.

She pinched the bridge of her nose once more before glancing downward at her legs—thanking the heavens that she had decided to wear shorts after all—her shoes were ruined, but that was a lot better than walking around in puke covered pants the rest of the night. Skin could wash, shoes could be thrown away.

She glanced at her pokegear for the first time that night, already a quarter after midnight, she might call it an early day, save herself and Ash the trouble of explaining themselves to the staff for why they were loitering in a restroom, of all places. She wasn't quite as _trashed_ as Ash was, but she was far from sober. The redhead simply handled her liquor quite a bit better than Ash.

"You drive me crazy." Ash finally muttered, eying her from his awkward position between a hand dryer and paper towel dispenser.

"Why's that?" Misty mumbled, approaching him without her shoes on. Ash snorted at her painted toes, and flung his arms at her.

"MISTY, you can't walk around without shoes." He shouted, practically picking her up. Her face flushed a deep scarlet, and her eyes twitched.

With only the tips of her toes touching the floor, she wriggled in Ash's arms. "I can, and I want to." She muttered breathlessly, but he didn't flinch—in fact he sniffed once, and then again. _Was he smelling her?_

"Put me down, Ash." She ordered, but he did not comply.

He hummed against her collarbone. "You always smell sooooo nice. Like lavender—but with a bunch of chlorine and flowers."

"I'm glad you've noticed." She grunted sarcastically.

"But sometimes you smell like an athlete—because you are one, rrrrrrrright?" he mumbled, breath brushing against her collarbone and chest; at first, the warmth sent shivers down her spine until the scent of his puke-ridden breath made her nose hairs burn.

"Sometimes you smell like vomit. Ash, let go of me." She barked, placing her hands against his face and giving one solid push.

She landed on her feet, though the same couldn't be said about Ash, who fell backwards rather comically, and landed head first against one of the stalls.

 _Crazy. Because she always managed to somehow injure him._ She winced when he bounced back up right away; rubbing the top of his head and blinking innocently at her. She staggered backwards a bit the rush of gravity heavier than usual.

"I think we should get you home. Delia will be worried." Misty tried to lift the boy, but his fingers were like water, and he dead weighted in her arms.

"Don't wanna." he grunted, refusing the idea. "I wanna stay here."

Misty knelt beside him, heaving a loud sigh while her forearms rested on her knees.

"You want to sleep on the floor of the females washroom. In a bar." She paused for added effect before adding: "Next to period pads and tampons?"

"Yesh!" he smiled widely at her, and she hung her head in despair as he sat up—clearly against the idea—but so far down stream he probably wasn't sure what he was saying.

 _Sure he knew what he was saying—she looked great in those shorts_.

And that might have come out of his mouth if not for the very next instant, she lugged his right arm over her shoulders, and heaved him to his feet—the strength of this woman still surprised him, even if he was a few inches taller than her now. She could still lift him.

"Not so fast." He mumbled, feeling the sudden rumble of his stomach.

Now, Misty could use another drink, and she almost felt like she _would need_ one before she got Ash home. She giggled though; she was never the belligerent drunk—that was her sisters; in fact, drinking found a way to calm Misty. The hang overs were the hard part.

"Home." Misty barked, pointing to the door, and with a great deal of effort, she helped the swaying Ash to the bathroom door, where he stopped to touch her hips and press his back into the black door.

"But you're here already?" his eyebrows knit cutely.

"Oh please." Misty snorted. "Home is not a bar."  
Ash's face scrunched up in thought. "It's not?"

"No." Misty grinned. "Home is where your bed is."

"So your home is my bed, too?"  
She all but choked on her laughter as she shoved him out of the swinging doors. "Shut up, Ash."

 **XOXS**

The cool night air did nothing to sober the duo, if anything, the longer they walked, the worse they got. Somewhere between sharing old stories and laughing like _drunkards_ down the street, Ash piped up.

"I have to pee."

"Can't you hold it?" Misty murmured while Ash shook his head violently, doing his rendition of the "pee pee" dance.

"Well," She grunted, trying to steady her own eyes long enough to point to a row of bushes near the forest on the way to his mom's house. "Over there. Go quickly before someone sees you."

"Yes ma'am." He muttered as he struggled across the road without Misty to lean on. Walking in a straight line was clearly out of the picture, but an "S" line was okay, right?

Ash unzipped the fly of his jeans while Misty checked her gear phone again; they were making good time-at this rate, they would get there after Delia went to sleep, and she would never even notice that her little boy was ever intoxicated.

"Look Misty, I can spell my name!" He turned around, and she looked over at him, immediately regretting her decision.

"ASH PUT THAT AWAY."

 **XOXs**

"Brock told me I should be nicer to you." Ash mumbled—he was now not allowed to touch her with his hands, primarily because she was convinced he had gotten urine on them somehow—though he tried to assure her that he did not. He wasn't an _animal_.

"Did he?" Misty mumbled, recalling Brock's attempts to pick up women at the bar and snickering.

"Yeaah." he grunted with pride, and inhaled. "He even gave me pointers."

"Oh, this should be good." she said with a snort, knowing that Ash would tell her whether she wanted to know or not.

He began. "If you were impeccable, you'd be a chicken."

Her face scrunched up; "You mean, if I was a chicken, I'd be impeccable?"

"Right, right." He paused. "Did your license get crazy for -hiccup- being suspended?"

Misty snorted, listening to the failed-cheesy pickup line, right out of Brock's hand book of 'being nice to the ladies'.

"I think you said it wrong." She hummed cheerfully, eyes full of mirth.

"Right, it was something like crazy license suspended for driving." He tried, though it made perfect sense to him, it did not reflect the same in Misty. She laughed loudly.

"Oh Ash." She muttered, seeing his house in the distance—just down the small incline. Once there, she could get him in bed—tuck herself in on the guest bed, and call it a night. Sleep this off.

"If you were words on a page you'd be a baby."

She snorted unlady like caught off guard, "-What?" She chortled, looking at him from the corner of her eye. He tucked his face closer to hers as he looked ahead, struggling to remember the correct words he was told by Brock. Perhaps Brock should have told him before he was already drinking?

"Do you bake?"

"You know I don't" she offered dryly.

"-because you're oven!"

Trying not to laugh, she shot him a look; _not a glare, not a look of frustration;_ a _look._ "I think you mean because I'm _hot_."

"Are you?" Ash said, rather confused.

"Mist-you'ra 'earing like, nothin' at all." He said matter-of-fact, and Misty let out a bellowing laughter while Ash stared at her legitimately confused. Tongue in cheek, and head low—the slurring began, as if a light in his mind has been turned off. Misty never suffered from speech impediment, and while she believed Ash wouldn't either—she might have spoken too soon.

"Please don' remove an'more. I do not think I could handle such a thing right now." Her eyebrows quirked.

"Why not?"

"'ecase you're hot."

She laughed; once again, the words left her mouth: " _Oh Ash."_

 **XOXs**

Misty always prided herself on her ability to hold her alcohol—or maybe it was because she drank too much too often? But Ash was managing about as well as a horsea fighting a zaptos. They were at his doorstep when they realized that maybe _home_ wasn't such a good idea.

"The world's all over the place, and you're my anchor." Oh, those lines weren't going to stop anytime soon, were they? She huffed, her head already beginning to ache as her world turned.

"Okay. We just have to sneak up the stairs and to your room without being noticed." Because there was no way Ash was even capable of pretending to be sober. He was pointing at imaginary butterfree as they spoke.

"Noooooo" Ash grinned, flopping his arm around her shoulders and giving her quite possible the most awkward, spacial invading hug he had ever graced her with. "I think you have _always_ wanted to sneak around with me." he said hotly, his breath blowing against her ear.

"That one doesn't even make sense."

"Your face." He shot her a dirty glare, or at least his best attempt. Misty snorted. What did she get herself into? "'ssss gorgeous."

Caught off guard, her neck snapped at him. "What?"

He didn't seem to notice her alarm. "Dawn said I should have bought you a gift."

Sweat dripped from the back of her neck, the adoring personality he had was cute at first, but was now bordering on the edge of her patience the longer she went without a drink.

"Why would she say that?" Misty murmured, deciding that even though Delia's house might not have been _safe_ , it was the only place they had _right now_. Ash pushed in first, with Misty tumbling in after him.

"Wash up down here." She said, leading him away from the stairs.

"She says that girls like flowers." Ash muttered on, blinking and speaking almost in tongue as Misty turned the tap on for him to wash his hands. He did so easily enough; even splashed his face—and the mirror, and Misty, and half of his shirt with cold water. She growled, trying to wring out the top of her blouse—when Ash looked at her, he could see the faint coloring of her red bra beneath her _overly-tight_ and now wet tank top.

"bu' ss I 'ways thought you 'oudl 'ike 'som'thin 'ore practical." _Whatever that means,_ Misty thought while taking his arm and pushing him forward.

Misty sighed, now guiding him up the stairs; where his room wouldn't come fast enough—a drunk taking care of a drunk wasn't her idea of fun. If she was sober, she would at least be without the massive headache; and able to better laugh at him. Right now, the struggle up the stairs for the two of them was rough enough.

"Like what?" Misty whispered in return; his train of thought derailed.

"Whadda like?" He asked with genuine interest as she wrestled with him up the stairs.

"Water pokemon."  
"Me, too." Ash smiled lovingly, a strange sparkle reaching his eyes as Misty blew a strand of hair from her face. She didn't speak to him again until he was in his room; trying to fall flat on his bed. Misty heaved, her shoulders tight and sore from carrying him so many blocks—damn Pallet Town and their shitty taxi services.

"Misttt." He whined, flopping onto his bed. "'m'er'" He motioned for her to come to him; well, he flailed his arm at her, _which was clearly good enough_ , bravely taking a few steps towards him.

"What?" She offered when Ash sprung up, holding a box of goodies from beneath his bed.

"I wanted to give you this!" he grinned, holding it out to her. She recognized the box right away.

"Ash, these are your trophies." She murmured, eyebrows raised.

"And that's why I want, _yyyyoouuu_ to 'ave 'em. Because they are important." He said while poking her on the nose. She scrunched her nose up cutely, and then shook her head, discarding the box quickly to the night stand and deflating his optimism.

"You 'no like?"

"I do. But you're drunk, and obviously not thinking." she countered, though the same could be said about her. At least _she_ wasn't past the edge of no return.

"I disagree—I have never been thinking more clearly!" He argued with a grin. His voice was too loud, so Misty hissed at him, holding her index finger to her lips to shush him as she traced back to his bed room door with a stagger and gently shut the door.

When she turned back, he had all but taken off his boxers.

"ASH!" she gasped. "What are you doing?!"

"Shhhh." He hissed back at her mockingly. "'m getting' comfortable—and m'clothes 'ere wet." He muttered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. To strip in front of her. But he didn't crawl into bed right away.

Oh, no, no, contrary. He had other plans.

""er top is wet, too." he grumbled, as if it made perfect sense for her to remove her top for a few splashes, well, a lot of splashes of water.

"Ash-" she hummed in rejection, but he had already jerked her shirt over her chest so quickly that she had little time to react and pull it back down before panic set in. _It wasn't like he couldn't see through it anymore anyways._

"Misty! You can't sleep in wet clothes." he half-scolded her, wagging a shaking finger her direction.

"I'm not. I'll change." She was embarrassed when she pointed to the door, taking protective steps away from him.

"But you can't leeeeeave."

"I can and I will!" She hissed quietly, her face as red as a tomato.

"But your home is where my bed is!"  
She gawked at him, stunned. "I said that _your_ home is where _your_ bed is."

"I don't think so..." He muttered, and Misty slapped her forehead, of _course_ that would be what he chose to remember.

"It'll be like old times, when you used to sleep next to me beside the fire!" He offered, racing towards his wardrobe to fetch a large shirt for his old friend.

"'ee, you can 'ear my shirt." He said happily while flailing his arms.

"Ash...Your mom would kill me."

"Sh' loves you." He said so matter-of-fact, so naturally that Misty's face turned beet red and she sucked in her lips as he back pressed against his door.

"''re all she talks 'bout when I 'all her." he mumbled while tugging on a black shirt over his torso—at least he had no intention of sleeping with his finely toned abs poking out for the world to see.

Her heart was racing, had it always been racing? _His was too_.

Maybe it was wrong of her—to take advantage of him when he was drunk..but he was so... open.

"And what does she say?" Misty mused, eyes narrowed as Ash insistently waged the overly large, dry shirt in her face. She took it from him to appease his nature as he flopped the distance to his bed and sprawled out over the comforter.

"Red haired babies..." Ash muttered into his arm, Misty came closer to see his face, he was blushing at the thought—or that might have been the alcohol, she had a hard time telling the difference.

"You're not going to puke again, are you?"

"Mmm." he muttered, holding his stomach now that he was laying flat.

He struggled to find the correct words: "Som'thin' is wrong with my eyes..." Ash muttered, glancing up at her shyly while she looked down at him fearfully. Did he go blind? She had heard that once—that alcohol could make someone go blind, though before she could ask such a silly question; he poked her on the nose once again.

"'cause I 'an't take my eyes off ya'" He muttered awkwardly before cowering behind his pillows again.

Flushed, she pursed her lips, ignoring the raging headache pounding against her temples. "But you just did." He twisted his head at her, gasping.

"I did what?" he muttered, surprised by her words—not having a clue what he was thinking only seconds ago. Apparently, his short-term memory was horrible drunk and sober. Worse drunk.

"Never mind." She laughed, straightening up her posture. _A fluke_. He pointed at her accusingly.

"I can see your bra."

He earned himself a punch to the head with such a comment, and he cradled the knot while she turned away from him and tugged the overly sized shirt over her head. The difference of sizes hiding her short-shorts.

"mmbetter." He grunted while resting his head to look at her. Eyes heavy, he stared, obviously, _blatantly_ , stared.

"Puberty looks good on you." he managed with a cheeky grin.

Shocked, she spun on her heels to face him. "Ash, you're dr—Oh, right." She said, slapping her Forehead. He opened his arms wide.

"What?"

"How come we never hug?" He asked sheepishly, and Misty's face fell.

"...Because." She started weakly, and he grinned expectantly as she added: "You're not wearing pants."

"Boxers are pants." he tried to argue, though her mouth twitched—fighting the smile. She _had_ to fight this urge, after all. They were both drunk.

"I can't believe you wear boxers."

"'ts better than what you're not wearing."

She slapped her chest in surprise. "What?" she gasped.

"On my floor." He said, a pained expression.Alleviation washed over Misty's face; _Oh, another failed pick-up line_.

"Go to sleep." she ordered.

"Dun wanna." he debated, but his eyes were already shut and she could hear the start of heavy breathing.

"I dun care." She mocked him, and then leaned over, steering clear of his arms, to kiss him on the temple. "Thanks for being so sweet." She mumbled happily, a chaste grin over her lips. Ash's mouth fell ajar at her movements, and he watched her with such an intensity, she couldn't help but giggle.

 **XOXS**

 _Crazy_. _She makes him crazy._ His mind barked at him while he impulsively touched the place where her lips touched his temple; the warmth was still there—but that might have been the blush on his cheeks. He couldn't be sure.

 _It might have even been the thoughts in his head_.

Damn it, go to sleep. He thought to himself, though his drunken mind had other intentions. He was on his feet nearly five minutes later, or had it been more? He lost track since Misty left his bed room. He traced his way to his door, staggering like a zombie through his door frame, and then shuffling quietly— _In Ash's mind it was quietly, in reality, he bumped the wall six times. He was anything but graceful—_ and found his way the guest bedroom's door knob. He twisted it open, and barged in unannounced.

He stepped over the first a hurdle on the floor, _or stepped on, he wasn't so sure_ , and then staggered through the room until collapsing onto the white comforters where her red hair poked out beneath. She had been asleep—which meant much more time than he thought had passed. He watched her dutifully.

"A-Ash, what are you doing?" She stammered through squinted eyes. His face was only centimeters away from hers.

"I'm going to kiss you." He announced proudly, and then dipped his face in—only to miss and fall into the pillow—his depth perception was off, _by about a foot_.

"Err." Misty grunted while scooting away, unsure if she was dreaming or not. She rubbed her eyes, smearing the make-up she hadn't bothered to wash off, and sat up to look at his righteously confused face. He sat up, and tried again.

"You haven't brushed your teeth." She denied him nervously, dodging his advances by leaning further into the bed.

He challenged her. "Neither have you."

"You threw up." She countered.

He snorted; "So?"

"That's gross." she whined.

"Shut up and kiss me." His eyes rolled.

"No." She hissed and Ash pressed his arms against hers.

"Why?" she leaned back when he tried to lean in.

"Because!"

"Whyyyyy?" he whined once more, lips puckered.

"Because I-"

"Kiss me."

Her face was scarlet, her nerves of steel broken; her body broken while he pressed her into the soft of the bed—only, it wasn't soft, no, her head was rested on a lump—on a body. "No!"

Her shrill voice caused a disturbance in the air before his lips crashed onto hers in a sloppy, wet kiss that tasted like some horrible combination of yesterday's lunch and today's bar. He didn't smoke, but his mouth tasted like cigarettes—courtesy of a open tobacco bar. His body was heavy on top of hers; even after _hours_ of sleep—he was clearly still inebriated.

When they separated, _when Ash finally let her breath,_ it was to the sound of shrieks and frustrated groans.

"Can you do that _somewhere else_?!" Dawn hissed from her half of the bed, launching a pillow at Ash's face and knocking him over. From the edge of the bed, May and Bonnie watched with sleepy eyes, and Misty watched in horror; back still flush against the bed, head against Dawn's covered legs. Her shirt, _his shirt_ was raised to just beneath her breast, and her face was scarlet.

Ash felt suddenly three times more sober. _Oh, that's why._ He glanced at the digital clock—it was well past 4:00am, which meant that _everyone_ was home, at least anyone who was staying here. He tugged on his collar.

"It's about time. But couldn't you have done that in your room?" May groaned while holding her head and flopping back onto her comforter on the floor and covering her face with her pillow.

Mortified, Ash stared at Misty who gave him a weak shrug in response; as well as cherry-cheeked grin.

Well, she did _try_ to warn him.

 **XOXs**

To say that Ash remembered _anything_ would very much an understatement. He remembered _everything_ from puking on Misty's shoes, to stumbling into her bed room only a few hours ago to swap spit. However, he wasn't going to tell _anyone_ that. He would sooner die. No, if anyone asked, he woke up without a _single_ memory of last nights events.

When he saw the smiling, mocking faces of his companions sitting in the kitchen at the table, he returned their grins with one that matched it.

"Good morning!" He called chipper to his friends who were gathered around the table, watching him—he had showered, changed his clothes, and looked like Ash. No questions about it.

Dawn wasn't as impressed. Her head was killing her.

"Shhhhhh." She grunted, holding her coffee mug to her head while Paul smirked beside her.

Brock wagged his eyebrows. "D'ya remember anything?"

"Remember what?" Ash asked, looking at the breakfast that was waiting for him on the table. He took a seat beside Serena who watched him with a pale, almost lost facial expression as he hummed about his normal morning ritual. No, by that point _everyone_ , excluding Delia, of course, had heard about the _event_. Thanks to Bonnie.

Misty, who was hording the coffee was like a statue, watching Ash with one eyebrow raised. He hadn't even looked at her yet—which was odd—she grinned in response and sipped her coffee black. _She knew_. She _always knew._

Brock looked disappointed. "You don't remember anything _?_ "

"I remember peeing on the road and trying to nap in the females restroom. After that, it's gone." He said calmly, almost panicked. "I didn't fall asleep in there, did I?" he asked, eyes wide in mock-terror.

"I didn't do anything weird, did I?" He asked to land the finishing blow.

Serena choked. "Nothing!" She said in unison with Clemont, who shared a frantic look with one another.

Bonnie pursed her lips.

"Nothing with kissy-kissy?"

Ash looked appalled. "What?"

Apparently, he was a lost cause. Of course, after the amount he drank—no one was _really_ surprised. No one except for Misty who smacked her lips.

 **XOXs**

Misty waited until after breakfast—to get Ash at his most honest, the key was to do it _away_ from everyone else. If he wanted to sell that story; he shouldn't have led with such a chipper attitude. No one was _that_ okay after drinking so much—especially not their first time. If the lack of hang over was an act—everything must have to. That was her logic; or maybe she was in denial.

 _Maybe she didn't want him to forget._

"So, Ash. Which part did you say you could remember again?" Misty asked, coming up from behind Ash while he stood on the back deck's balcony, staring out. He had rushed out of the house the very moment pots and pans from breakfast started to clink and bang together. He had been cradling his head when Misty approached.

"Uh, oh, uh. Peeing on the street." He muttered, tearing his eyes away from the flowers below that were _painfully_ interesting. He barely looked at her.

"And?"

"And?" Ash asked. "Oh, washing my face in the woman's washroom."

"But I thought you tried to take a nap?"

"I did, but I didn't nap because you pulled me out of there." He looked at her, the way her eyelids were lowered and her eyebrows were raised so mockingly.

"But I thought you didn't remember that?" She smirked and Ash's face fell.

"...You...you tricked me."

"So, what _do_ you remember?" She grinned, though Ash didn't find the joy in this at all. He tugged on his collar and looked away.

"That's it."

"Now say it while _looking_ at me, and I'll believe you." She grinned, leaning in close. "Or are your eyes too damaged?" She grinned, Ash glared at her coldly.

She _would_ use that against him.

"My eyes are fine." he mumbled, though a slowly crawling blush rose to his cheeks the longer he stared at her face.

"Did you brush your teeth?" She asked, knocking him off guard. He blinked.

"Yes, why?" He responded with an innocent drawl to his words that Misty sweeped up with a proper kiss; one where her hand brushed across his cheeks, his lips weren't covered in slobber—and the taste of alcohol was replaced with orange juice and coffee. Her lips were so soft against his dry ones and his eyes always turned backwards in his head.

She broke it a second later, and Ash's throat fell into the pit of his stomach: Speechless.

"You know, I think drinking might not be for you." Misty quipped with such a grin his stomach ached _. Was that butterfrees?_

His face steamed. "What gave you that impression?" He asked, rocking on his heels, _staring not so subtly at her lips._ She grinned like a cat.

"Next time you should make sure we're alone." She mocked him, smirking that devilish little smirk that he could not _not_ notice.

"Maybe next time _you_ _should_ lead with that." He grunted in return.

His eyes shifted to the back door, and then down the ways to the grass field. They were _alone right now_. Everyone else was inside, recovering from their own hang overs—avoiding the sun at all costs. The heat wave seemed to only make them feel worse, more nauseous. Ash enjoyed it because it made his headache lessen.

His face turned bright red; "You know. Brock said that..."

"The best cure for a hang over is-"

"Yeah." Ash said—not quite drunk enough to use _those_ _explicit_ words anymore.

Misty grinned, a crinkle in her eye that made his stomach do flips as she leaned in closer to him, her lips only a hair from his. He could see the mischievous nature in her eyes as she grinned.

"Hey, Ash." She mused and Ash swallowed nervously.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to kiss you. _Again._ " She declared nonchalantly before cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips to hers once more, this time, he eagerly accepted and kissed her back.

Perhaps drinking wasn't _so_ bad.

Especially if it gave him a _reason_ to do _this_.

 _The top reason, and most important reason to drink on Ash Ketchum's list? Because kissing Misty Waterflower became top priority._

 **Author's Note:**

This one was a request (not sure if they wanted to be mentioned or not because they thought the idea was cliche), and I had a lot of fun writing it, though, I don't really like it all too much (maybe it's because one-shots aren't my favorite? XD)I never really have an opportunity to write a drinking moment like this, because I feel like "getting drunk and confessing" is a cop-out device, so it was pretty fun. I tried to show the deterioration from drinking without actually saying it.

State one: No fucks given.

Stage two: Puke. Everywhere. What do you mean the world is moving?

Stage three: No filter

Stage four: Bad decisions _("hold my beer" or in Ash's case "I'm going to kiss you")_

Stage five: Hang over and denial and all things that come with having to be accountable for your actions.

Drinking age is 18(sometimes lower) in most countries outside of the US, most people have their first drink years before that. So, Ash is nineteen. Sue me.

Also, pick up lines. I've had an itch to use them, and I'm so happy I got to write Ash butchering them (thanks, Brock) XD

Next chapter is Razor few DOOM's request!

And then I have a little something I'm needing to get off my chest.

NINT

PS prompts anyone?


	3. Chapter 3: Priorities

Mad Season Chapter 3

Pairing: Misty/Gary, sort of Ash/Misty(?)

Rated: T

Genre: Drama/Angst

Summary: In which Ash reflects on missed opportunities.

 **XOXS**

It was something about the rain.

The sound of distant thunder, or the whip of the wind, or the crackle of lightning; something about it always drew his attention back to the redhead who stole his heart,

 _then promptly ripped it out, and skewered it with a knife_.

But it was _his_ fault, at least that's what she, Brock, May, Dawn, Gary, and _his_ _mother_ told him. Ash screwed up, not Misty.

She wanted him to be around more, he wanted to visit Alola. She wanted more time together, he wanted more time to battle. She wanted to get married, he wanted to collect champion titles. _She_ wanted to buy a house, _he_ wanted to adventure to new continents. _She_ told him that if he left again, she wouldn't be there when he returned, but _of course_ he didn't believe her. It was _Misty_ frickin' _Waterflower_. She had been in love with him since they were twelve.

How was _he_ supposed to know she would _actually_ leave?

She spent the better part of her teenage years, and young adult life _waiting_ for him—why would he actually _believe_ she would have stopped now?

" _Because I'm turning twenty-six in June and the closest we've ever had to a real date is you taking me to watch a friggin' round robin tournament!_ " he echoed her answer to that question—when he had asked it two years ago before he left for the newly found continent.

Maybe he hadn't always been the best at romance, but she knew that. She _always_ knew that. Ash wasn't even the best at calling, or relationships outside of pokemon _at all_ , but that never stopped her before.

Imagine his shock, and absolute disbelief when he arrived at her door step only three hours ago to see a fumbling toddler at her feet. The terror in his mind when he saw that Gary was sitting on the green couch where _he_ used to sit. The panic when he saw that her long slender fingers were decorated by a glaring, white diamond that only made the tap of her nails and frown of her lips three times more apparent.

How jarred he was when she slammed the door in his face, and _how devastated_ he was when he realized his mistake.

Ash threw his arms up.

 _Maybe_ it was his fault! He had only spent the last three hours calling his _friends_ and family to hear exactly that. Apparently, there was no _other_ way to view the situation. Ash disappeared for two years, and Misty moved on.

As Brock plainly put it; " _What else was she supposed to do?"_

Oh, Ash didn't know—call him, travel with him, send a letter? _SMOKE SIGNALS_ would have sufficed! Thunder cracked outside of his hotel one once again, and he leaned forward to hold his face in his hands, and groan to himself. It's not like they were kids anymore. They weren't teenagers. Misty was turning twenty-eight in two days, and what a lovely gift to share with her—Ash's complete, dense nature, expecting to return home as if nothing changed.

Slowly, his brown eyes turned to the windowsill, where pikachu rested, curled up beneath his worn cap, and Ash exhaled. Maybe it wasn't the rain that reminded him of her—but reminded him of everything he let go when he left.

 _Knock Knock_

Pulled from his thoughts, he sat up in his chair, knocking over his bag which he had set beside it, and cursed as he slumped over to the door. He felt more tired than he actually was.

When he pulled open the door, he wasn't expecting the scowling redhead to be staring back at him with hateful, sea-green eyes.

"M-misty?" Ash hummed, trying to shush the excitement in his voice, especially if she was still angry. Judging by the appropriate glare and the way she shoved his shoulder when she walked in, he doubted the few hours he had been gone did anything to cool her temper.

She didn't speak when she walked in, didn't bother looking at him, she barely moved at all when she spun to stare at him as he closed the door as quietly as possible—as if even the slightest noise would set her off.

When she inhaled, it was unsteady and vicious, only, the sparks didn't fly until Ash found enough bravery to finally look at her.

"You..." She hissed, fists trembling. "...have some nerve."

"Sorry. I didn't know."

"Obviously!" She screamed and Ash winced.

"Shh!" He hissed back at her, holding his finger to his lips. "I don't want to get thrown out of here." _especially not in the rain!_ He added as an afterthought, but he was pretty sure she could care less if he slept in the rain or in a garbage can, judging by her current appearance.

"I don't _care_! What do you think you were doing at _my_ house?" She wagered, pushing one of her neatly manicured fingers hard against his chest. Ash recoiled at the strength of her finger, and rubbed the spot where she jabbed him.

"Like I said, I didn't know."

"Right! But why would you come to _me_? You didn't _really_ think I'd wait for you!?" She bellowed, her voice cracking at the insane possibility. "I _told_ you not to come back if you left! I _meant_ it!"

"Well how was I supposed to know?" Ash yelled back in frustration.

"I think I made myself pretty clear!" She countered, but Ash struggled not to yell back again—yelling would amount to nothing. Yelling was exactly what he felt like, but it was far from what he wanted.

"If you don't want me around, why are you here?" He asked meekly, glancing away from her eyes. Hopeful, maybe.

Misty let out a long, harrowing sigh. "Gary told me to come."

Ash snorted, temper flaring. "Gary?" Ash mocked. "You married _Gary_? What the hell?!" Ash snapped, his resolve to not fight gone in a single world.

"When did you even have time to get to know him?"

Misty snapped next. "Oh, I don't know. The _two years_ you've been gone!"

"Two years isn't that long!" Ash cried in frustration, throwing his arms up.

"Maybe to you!" She screamed, stomping her foot as she reeled back and cracked her neck. She couldn't stand to look at him. Staring back at her, however, was the gentle eyes of pikachu, who felt that if he greeted her with as much enthusiasm as he used to, Ash would feel betrayed—it stayed by the window, even after Misty briefly waved to the pokemon.

"I'm sorry." Ash offered, but Misty shook her head.

"Save it." she replied hoarsely. "I'm not here because of us."

Ash rolled his eyes and shoulders. "Then can you leave? I was kind of busy wallowing in my self-entitled-pity."

"I can see that." Misty mocked appropriately, and the tone of her voice sent shudders of anger down his spine once again. How dare she!

"Then what _do_ you want?"

"Nothing, from you." She whipped, but then turned to face him, tongue in cheek. "But like I said, Gary told me to come here."

"And do what? Does he want to rub my nose in it by using you? Are you into that now? Belittling people?" Ash paused, and then gasped sarcastically. "Oh wait, you already did that."

Misty licked her lips with a scoff of disbelief, nodding her head as if agreeing with him. Somethings wouldn't change, not his snark, not her anger, and never their arguments. Maybe they were lucky to have dodged such a toxic relationship.

"You know, never mind. I shouldn't have come here after all." Misty adjusted her rain jacket, and shook her head, muttering to herself as she shoved past Ash once again, this time avoiding all contact as she brushed past.

Flabbergasted, Ash blinked several times and turned on his heels to look at her back. Her hair, which she wore short for the sixteen years he knew the woman, was well past her shoulders, but tied neatly into a braid—such a small change, but it exemplified everything. His heart twisted, and his stomach lurched.

As if feeling the exact moment his heart stopped, her feet promptly stopped as well, when her fingers wrapped around the metallic door knob.

"My son." Misty hummed.

Ash scoffed; "Gonna throw that in my face, too?" He muttered quietly, mostly to himself as he leaned against the wall across from her, folding his arms.

She paused for several seconds, mulling the thought over in her mind. In the distance, Ash heard the abrupt roar of thunder, as Misty inhaled and released stubbornly.

"He's not Gary's." Misty managed before swiftly ripping open the door, and slamming it shut on her exit. He was sure that if she had slammed just a little harder, the door would have flown right off its hinges; but his mind was else where.

 _Oh_. Ash thought shortly after, his brain derailed as his fists unconsciously clenched, and unclenched several times before he fell backwards onto the foot of his bed, breathless.

Her anger made sense now, her reluctance to let him go, the house, the talks about marriage. Ash covered his mouth and let his hair fall into his eyes, darkening his brown face. Pikachu was there in a flash, sitting beside his long-time trainer with his paw on his thigh, and a deep look of concern over its yellow face.

 _Promptly ripped it out, and skewered_. Ash thought once more, inhaling a shaky breath as he covered his mouth in absolute disbelief. Why wouldn't she have told him _before_ he left? That would have made him stay. He flinched, even his own mind betrayed him. _Misty_ would have never _made_ Ash stay. She would have never put him in that situation—but that didn't mean that she shouldn't have. For once, he wished that she _wouldn't_ have put his thoughts first.

Ash could have stayed, he _would_ have stayed.

But why would she want him to, if he didn't already? She would have thought she forced him—and that would have made _everything_ worse.

"Pikapiii" The mouse cried to his trainer as salty tears dripped down Ash's face. He hiccuped, on the verge of throwing up.

 _Okay. It was his fault._

 **Author's Note** :

I know Razor of DOOM's request was supposed to be up. But, I sort of had the pokeshipping blues due to the current blah weather. So, here I am. My thoughts: what if Ash -always- put traveling first? Now this isn't necessarily something I could see him doing, since Ash is fairly noble and all that jazz; it's just a something.

-hides from the pitch forks-

 _fun fact_ : Pretty sure every time I've written about Misty living somewhere, she always had a green couch.

 _Thoughts about the chapter:_ This would be one of those more serious (sort of farfetched, if you'd ask me) stories, where Ash is completely blindsided by traveling and Misty is convinced telling him would 'ruin' his life, so if she can't convince him to stay without telling him, then she thinks it's best he not be around at all. Also, I like to sometimes write out the dynamic of Ash and Misty when they -aren't- all fluff and candles.


	4. Chapter 4: Scheming

Mad Season Chapter 3

 **Pairing** : Ash/Misty,

 **Genre:** Humor/Romance

 **Rating** : T

 **Summary:** In which Brock and Daisy scheme to get Ash and Misty together. One-shot

 **Requested by** : Razor Of DOOM

 **XOXs**

Ash and Misty were both stubborn, they were oblivious, and in denial. These were facts that Brock had become obsessively aware with since the start of his friendship with the duo. They bickered like a married couple, they joked like best friends, they spoke like peers, and they influenced each other like rivals. They were in the simplest of terms: _terribly perfect_ for each other.

However, staring down his calender like a ticking time clock, he was sure that they would _never_ realize it without help.

"So, uh, Misty..." Brock began, holding the phone close to his ear, he could see the image of the redhead in the video phone while she flicked cyan polish onto her nails. It was their mandatory three-way call between the former trio that took place every two weeks, only, the familiar, raven-haired boy was missing in action.

"What's up, Brock?" Misty hummed, holding the phone skillfully with her shoulder and a tilt of her head.

"Aren't you bothered that Ash isn't here?" he grunted, and she shrugged, tipping her knee up against her chest to begin painting her toes the same color.

"Not really, you know he's busy preparing to return home after his last league match."

"...Yeah, but he lost again—don't you think that, well, you know, he might be a little depressed?" Brock countered, clucking his tongue. Misty briefly glanced at Brock, checked the screen for his icon, and then looked away once again.

"He usually lets us know when something is up." Misty muttered halfheartedly. Brock could see the pain twisted on her face, over the years Ash had started to miss more and more of these phone calls—but none as recent as when he started to travel in Kalos. Lately, he had been too busy to talk with Brock or Misty, or even return emails. However, Misty refused to let any of that bother her, and if it did. She adamantly refused to show it.

That was another thing; they weren't children anymore, long gone were the days when they would sit at their phones, waiting to hear from Ash. Misty had outgrown her school girl crush, and if deeper feelings still existed, she had them barred in the deepest parts of her heart.

"You don't think it has something to do with, uhh, you know, Serena?"

Her eyes looked at Brock like a snakes would its prey, and she sucked back air before setting her nail brush into the cyan bottle, and sealed it.

"Brock, listen." She started. "Whatever you're thinking. Stop thinking it." She warned him, knowing _that look_ in his squinted eyes.

"Thinking what?" Brock exasperated, "What could I be thinking."

"I don't know. But whatever it is. Stop." She warned him while holding the phone and pointed her well manicured finger at the screen threatening. "I would hate to have to fly to Johto to kick your butt."

"Oh Misty, you're too paranoid! What could I do?"

She squinted her eyes glaring over his face for _any_ hints that he would be thinking of something _abnormal_ and then sat back. "Alright, I'm sorry."  
"Sheesh, paranoid?" He mocked, wiggling his eyebrow. Misty inhaled.

"When it comes to you, yes." She refrained from repeating disastrous stories before fluttering her eyes at him. "Anyways, I better get going, it's late here and I have to be up early for gym duties, so I will catch you later."

"Alright, take care Misty! Let's talk again soon!"

"Will do," She paused thoughtfully and gave him a warm smile. "And good luck on your test tomorrow!"

"Thanks!"

She clicked off the screen, the black light enveloping where her face had been only moments ago, and Brock found himself stammering and tapping his fingers against his lips and chin. This simply wasn't going fast enough...and if left alone they would drift apart and their friendship—the original threesome- would cease to exist. Brock gnawed his fingers for a few moment, before turning to his cell phone and scrolling through some spare numbers.

It was a long shot, but it was something.

"Hello, Daisy?" Brock murmured,

"Oh, is this Brock? Like, I think you like, have the wrong number. Misty is-"

"No, I wanted to call you." He informed quickly, and the blonde grunted slightly.

"Like, I already said I'm dating Tracey..."

Brock slapped his forehead with his palm. "It's no about that!" He assured her quickly. "I uh, was wondering if you could help me out with a problem..." He rummaged through his things at his desk in his dorm room and pulled out a sheet of paper.

"A problem? Like, don't you think you should tell Misty?"

"No!" Brock shouted and then cleared his throat. "This is _about_ Misty. I need your help."

"...oh no. Do you, like, have the hots for my sister?"-"Daisy, who are you talking to?" Brock heard Misty shout from Daisy's end of the phone.

"No, not me, Ash!" Brock chanted quickly, grabbing his chest before Daisy shouted back at Misty. She licked her lips, thwarted off Misty by shutting a door, and smacked her lips.

"I'm listening."

 **XOXs**

This was never going to work.

Clearly Brock had lost his mind; he was taking the first trip to the loony bin when this was over! He was going to either get strangled by Misty, or ignored forever by Ash after this. Neither were great options!

He sat at Misty's house, watching the woman in blue shorts and red tank top pace back and forth through her kitchen, holding a note that had been pasted together with glue and newspaper cut outs.

"What do you think this means, Brock?" She gasped, slamming the note onto the table.

"I don't know." He said, blinking innocently at her. Seconds later, she slumped down into her seat and rubbed her temple.

"I'm sorry for calling you, just when I tried to reach Ash, that little blonde girl told me he was already on his way back home." Misty swallowed hard. "Some kind of emergency came up—I just didn't know who else to call..."

Brock felt himself begin to sweat while looking over the note: _"Don't inform the police, we've taken your sister. Bring Ash and ten thousand dollars or she burns."_

Brock swallowed hard, eyes wide. It was _a little_ extreme! When he and Daisy spoke of a plan to bring the duo together, he didn't mean to create a kidnapping—but Daisy was nothing if not one for dramatic flares.

"Do you think Ash got one?" Brock muttered quietly, peeking up at Misty who cradled her head in her hands.

"I don't know. Brock, what am I going to do? Maybe I can tell the police without _them_ knowing?" Misty sniffled—and his heart sank. She was _crying_ or at least starting to. Oh man, when the cat came out of the bag this time, he was a dead man.

"No!" Brock snapped, getting a concerned look from Misty who sat back in alarm, Brock cleared his throat shortly after. "I just mean that they could be watching you, and if they are, they might actually hurt her... We should wait to see if we can reach Ash."

"You think so?" Misty stammered thoughtfully. "When was the last time you spoke with him?" She muttered painfully, wiping her eyes.

Brock shuddered, back stiffening. "Ahh, about a month ago?"  
Then she set her head down on top of her arms again. "Oh no. What am I going to do?" She whined, because when Ash was unheard of for a month, that could mean weeks before they heard from him again.

"...Calm down Misty, I'm positive he will be here." Brock shrieked, getting another confused look from Misty.

"Positive? How can you be positive he's coming here?" She asked, scrunching her eyebrows up cutely while Brock's face fell flat and he jolted from his chair to start on a pot of coffee—mostly to distract himself, and keep her attention away from his face. Misty could read him like a book.

She stalled for a few seconds, thumbing the wooden table and then glancing at the note once more.

"Brock, what do you know?" She growled dangerously, and he hummed pathetically while filling the float.

"N-nothing I ju-""MISTY!" A raspy voice called from the front of the front of the gym. Misty sprang to her feet, recognizing the voice automatically and rushed from the kitchen, followed closely in tow by Brock. The doors swung open, revealing an out of breath and panicked Ash who ran the full length of the pool before Brock and Misty made their stop outside of the kitchen.

"Ash!" Misty called in surprise, receiving moments later a barreling hug that nearly knocked her over. Ash's warm embrace brought a bright blush to her face as Brock stared on in awe. Ash had closed his eyes and exhaled in the moment, his heart was still racing and Misty felt it against her own chest when she awkwardly pat him.

"It's good to see you, too." She stammered, then nervously added. "but why the rush?" She added before Ash snapped backwards, sincere relief washing over his face as he held onto her shoulders and pikachu jumped from his shoulder and into Misty's arms with the same amount of relief as she scratched his ears.

"Sorry." he muttered weakly, still catching his breath. He exhaled once, shook his head in disbelief and then removed from his pocket a folded note.

"I got this." He gasped, wiping his forehead with his wrist.

Brock took the note from his hands while Misty looked on as he unfolded each crevice gently. He read the note aloud:  
"We've taken the Waterflower. Come on your own and tell no one or she dies..." Brock uttered quietly, looking up with a puzzled gaze at his two companions—while he seemed unconvinced they both seemed genuinely distraught. Misty turned from the two of them, much to Ash's confusion and reentered the kitchen to fetch a note from the table once more.

"I got one, too." She said, handing Ash the letter describing Daisy's capture. His face lightened up for a moment, and then turned serious once more. Just because they didn't take Misty didn't make the situation any better.

"When did you get this?" He inquired quickly, handing the note back to her. She shrugged.

"It was in the mailbox this morning." she said. "What about yours?"

"Yesterday." He said nonchalantly. "I tried to get here as fast as I could, but the flight from Kalos is anything but fast." He breathed, putting his hands on his hips and looking directly at Brock.

"Why are you here?" Ash asked suddenly pointing at Brock who twitched.

"Me? Oh, uh..."  
"I called him because I couldn't get a hold of you." She muttered weakly, and Ash's face fell.

"Sorry..." he grumbled, looking down briefly before returning his gaze to her, he clutched her shoulder, and blinked his brown eyes at her. "You're alright, though?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She reassured him with a bright smile. Brock watched in awe, and while he commemorated Daisy for her efforts—this was _too far_.

"Jeeze, you got here in a day from Kalos? You must have been worried." She teased, causing a jot of chills to run down Ash's spine and he looked away quickly, folding his arms in the process.

"I was not." he lied, stepping closer to Brock to enter his safety zone and to remove the note from his fingers once more.

"What are we going to do about this?" Ash asked, and Misty raised her eyebrows while looking over the notes once more. A little more level headed, her eyebrows rose.

"There might be another one laying around." Misty muttered, "We should split up and check the gym—they probably knew that Ash would be coming or else they wouldn't have sent one here without an address."

"That's true." Brock confirmed. "We should split up and look around." He shoved the two of them together, and took pikachu quickly. "I'll take pikachu, and search the first floor, you two look up stairs."

Both trainers gave him a awry look, and then looked at each other before shrugging. "Alright. But be careful, they might still be here." Ash warned, using code word gestures.

"Ash you don't even know what those mean." Misty grunted, pinching the bridge of her nose. Ash whispered in response, insisting that she keep her voice low.

"Doesn't matter." he responded, holding his index finger to his mouth before starting the trek up the stairs. Brock had already turned away to start his own investigation when he saw Misty looking back at him with narrowed, green eyes, and then followed Ash up the stairs quickly.

Brock waited until they were gone before pulling out his cell phone. "Pikachu, don't freak out but this is all very good intentions gone very bad..." He said. "Daisy faked her kidnapping in an attempt to bring Ash and Misty together." He warned while flipping through his contacts for Daisy's number.

"Cha!" The mouse whined in displeasure, unimpressed with the incident. "Pika pikapikachu!" It shouted before Brock held up a finger to his lips.

"Pikachu, not so loud! It wasn't my idea. I merely told Daisy to make up a believable excuse and send it to Ash... I didn't expect _this!_ " Brock sighed. He waited a few minutes to look through the bottom floor, making sure that no prying ears were around before he pressed the call button.

"Like, hello?" Daisy answered, the familiar smack of gum radiating from the phone. Brock inhaled.

"What were you _thinking_ telling Misty you were kidnapped?"

"Oh!" Daisy laughed modestly. "It worked that fast huh? How's it going?"

"Bad! She's going to kill me when she finds out—and she _will_ find out!" Brock groaned before the thump of feet racing down the stairs distracted him.

"Brock!" Ash screamed. Brock spun around on his heels to see Ash, and pikachu already began ratting the pokemon doctor out, but Ash's concern, distraught was all-too-real.

So was the blood on his forehead.

"Someone was upstairs!" He gasped. "They took Misty!"

"WHAT?!" Daisy screamed into the phone as Brock dropped the cellphone onto the hard tile floors.

 **XOXs**

The example of a joke gone wrong.

"I didn't send a note to Ash!" Daisy gasped, hands shaking as she searched the upper floor with Ash and Brock, she came right away after Brock's phone call to help them search the area. All they found was the bat the kidnapper used to hit Ash over the head, a broken window, and Misty's cellphone on the floor.

"They couldn't have gotten far!" Ash shouted. "Didn't you hear anything Brock? Where were you!?" He shouted, grabbing the breeder by his vest. Brock yelped, and wiggled out of Ash's grasp.

"I didn't know, I'm sorry! It was just supposed to be a joke!"

"Not a very funny one! What were you thinking? Misty could be seriously hurt!" Ash exclaimed, punching the wall dramatically and then retracting it moments later to shake out the pain. Brock looked on in awe and depression, while Daisy all but broke down, suddenly crying.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." She gasped, shoulders shaking as tears trailed down her cheeks. She held her face while Ash and Brock watched her sympathetically..

"...It's okay." Ash murmured quietly. "...we just have to find Misty. Do you think they left another note?" Ash asked quietly, looking away from his companions. Daisy wiped her eyes while Brock pat her shoulder sincerely.

"It's possible, maybe we should check her room?" Brock asked, walking towards the area in question. Ash followed at the back of the group, pale and glum while he rubbed his head and adjusted his hat.

This couldn't have been any worse—what if someone had been watching the gym and they saw this joke as the perfect chance to finally kidnap Misty without telling them? What in the world was Daisy thinking! Man, Brock should have never tried to stick his nose into Misty's affairs again and this would have never happened. Now one of his best friends was...gone.

"Another note!" Ash gasped, peeled away from their trail an into the bathroom where a crumpled note laid on the sink counter. He grasped it firmly, and then read the words with a pale expression and handed it to Brock.

"If you ever want to see the redhead again, come to the Cerulean Cave with five thousand dollars at midnight. If we see the police, you will never see her again."

Daisy fell into a squat, holding her stomach and trembling violently as Brock finished the note. Ash's blood boiled as he looked at Brock.

"Do you still think it's funny to pretend to be kidnapped?!" Ash shouted, and then turned away from them, holding pikachu.

"Where are you going?" Brock called to Ash as he made his way down the stairs.

"I'm going to go get that money!" Ash growled back, causing Daisy to rush to her feet and Brock to follow after him.

"You don't have that kind of money, Ash!" Brock suggested, grabbing his friends arm. Ash yanked himself out of his grip and narrowed his eyes at Brock.

"Well I'll find a way to get it! Misty's worth more than five thousand dollars!" He yelled in retort, furious that their little 'joke' wound up sporting one of his best friends kidnapping.

Brock swallowed hard, and then looked at the distraught Daisy who pulled together a few things of her own, including a tazer. She pranced from her bed room, and down the stairs after Ash.

"I'm coming with you!" She said, pulling her hair up into a ponytail as she walked.

Brock watched them with a growing pit in his stomach. How did a small prank turn into this...?

 **XOXs**

"Ash, I have to be honest." Brock mumbled on the trek to the cave. It was a quarter to midnight, and the cave was lets than a quarter mile away.

"About what?" Ash asked.

"If this goes horribly, we were only trying to help you two...and," he glanced at Daisy. "Things just got out of hand."

Ash's fury dropped for all of two seconds as he glanced at Brock. "What do you mean _help us_?"

"You and Misty... you two were just so perfect together and we thought that-" she sniffed, still trying to control her tears. "If we actually did something, you two would.."  
"Really, Brock?" Ash snarled, a red blush over his face. "This again?!"

"I'm sorry... it's just you've been gone for so long now... I didn't want our trio to die."  
Ash threw up his arms and slumped a little. "It's not going to _die!_ We'll always be friends." He muttered. "Sometimes we just... get a little busy." Ash offered quietly, looking down at his feet guilty.

Daisy swallowed hard and steeled herself. "That doesn't matter now. We really screwed up this time, I just want Misty back safely." Daisy said quickly, walking in front of Ash to the cave. In her right hand, she held a bag of money, and Ash and Brock nodded their agreement.

"I agree."

 **XoXs**

Brock inhaled softly, peering into the dark cave with only a flashlight. It had been closed off until Ash moved the detour signs and crawled inside himself, followed by Daisy and Brock. The drip of the watered caverns echoed through the tunnels, and they each shuddered. Pikachu stood alert on Ash's shoulder, prepared to attack anyone who appeared, but Ash made sure to tell him not too—they didn't want to put Misty in any more danger.

"We're here." Ash shouted outwardly, getting an alert 'shh' from Brock and Daisy.

"We don't know if they have guns, Ash!" Daisy barked quietly. "Keep your voice down!"  
"Sorry..."

Brock kept his focus ahead, when the battery light started to fade in and out. "Shit." He muttered, tapping the object against his hand several times to no avail. Ash's face scrunched up and he looked onward in the dark.

In the distance, he saw something move, and his grabbed the duo two each side of him.

"Did you guys see that?" He asked, and once more, they heard the pater of foot steps around them. Echoes formed down each side of the tunnel, followed by a very ominous, loud creak that brought Daisy in close to Brock's back.

"We brought the money..." Daisy whined, trying to keep her eyes peeled. Ash inhaled himself, and pressed forward.

"Ash wait, maybe we should rethink this?"

"No, she's in here." Ash said affirmatively while squaring his shoulders. Nervously, Daisy and Brock followed behind, keeping the right hand against the cave wall.

"Ash, you're going too fast, we can't keep up!" Brock whined in the dark, nearly jogging to keep at the same pace as his friend, he moved insistently, one hand pressed in front of him, and the other against the wall when they both landed against rock and he inhaled.

"Ash?" he called, but there was no immediate reply.

He tried again, but Daisy beat him to it. "Ash?" She cried into the dark, clasping her hand against Brock's arm.

"...oh no, what if they got him?" Daisy asked, shaking in fear.

"Don't say that, we would have heard something, he probably just got separated!" Brock replied, moving towards the sound of water—the cove that Cerulean Cave was known for. Light illuminated from the waters because of the stars and moon outside, and the duo carefully made their way there, calling for Ash through the darkness, but no sound ever came.

"Chaaa!" Pikachu squealed in pain from within the cave. Brock's throat fell into his stomach as he rushed forward, out into the open of the cove, desperate to find his friends.

"Pikachu! Ash! Misty!" Brock cried, cupping his hands, but the moment his foot made contact with the dirt, the sound of a clicking gun drew his attention to the stone at the far end of the walk, where two figures emerged, dressed all in black and wearing black ski-masks—one held a brown bag which contained a squirming pikachu, fighting for escape.

"Oh, no." Daisy gasped, having caught up with Brock. She looked on at the darkly dressed duo and felt her heart break.

"Where's my sister!" She hissed angrily with narrowed eyes.

"Did you bring the money?" The one of the right asked with the gun pointed at Brock. Her voice was low and raspy—as if it had taken years of smoking to reach such an octave.

"Yes! Now where is Misty!"

"The money first!" The male shouted deviously, his voice cracked lowly, almost like a large pokemon's deep growl.

"What did you do with Ash?" Brock inquired, holding his hands up as Daisy dropped the satchel of money on the ground. Following the motion of the female, they both fell to their knees and looked at one another.

"We disposed of him, we're taking his pikachu." The female replied with a sneer, lumbering forward quickly to grab the bag of money. She looked inside, and then scoffed. Brock fought back the urge to scream for Ash once more when the female spoke again.

"We said ten grand." She muttered, and Daisy and Brock's faces turned pale in response.

"You said five!" Daisy bellowed. "Now give me back my sister!"

The male, who still help the bag with pikachu in it squat before the two of them. "And what are you going to do if we don't?" He asked, taking a few full steps away.

"I think we're at the advantage here."

Daisy hiccuped. "Please! She's my baby sister..." She cooed, wiping her eyes and for a brief moment the duo looked at each other before Brock sprung forward, knocking the female over. The bag of money flew from her fingers, and the male released the brown satchel as he raced to pull Brock off of the girl.

"Brock!" The man shouted. "Calm down!" He added, listening to the high pitched sneer of laughter erupt from the woman Brock had just been peeled off of.

"Let go of me you crazy people!" Brock shouted, when the woman peeled off her mask, laughing hysterically. Brock's movements relaxed immediately when he saw the familiar spikes of red hair. The figure behind him released Brock so that he could grab Misty into a fitful hug, nearly in tears.

"Oh my god, you're okay!" He whined with Daisy in tow, lacing her arms around Misty as well.

It would have been a tearful reunion if the male hadn't removed his mask, showing off his tan skin, lightning bolt scars and black spiky hair with a snark chuckle.

"Wait..." Daisy murmured, reeling away from her sister. "You're _okay_." She hissed, glaring at Misty and Ash who looked equally amused. Brock followed Daisy suit and their mouths fell open.

"Now, what did you learn about making fake ransom notes?" Misty started twirling the fake gun in her hands, but Brock's temper rose, followed closely by Daisy's

"You two played us!" Brock shouted.

"We were actually worried you were hurt!" Daisy shouted in return while both Ash and Misty took a step back.

"It was just a joke..." Ash tried, while raising his arms in defense to protect themselves from the righteous fury of their companions.

"Just a _joke_!? I thought we were going to die! My ransom note was _way_ more tame!" Daisy shouted, throwing her arms around her head.

"But you were still going to pretend to be kidnapped! You were okay when it was _me_ who was supposed to be worried!" Misty yelled back, but it fell on deaf ears.

"And what about me, huh!?" Brock shouted, pointed at the two of them. "After everything I've done for you two, you pull a stunt like this! I thought you were both _dead_!"

"Sorry Brock, Misty said..."

"None of that!" Brock snapped. "I can't believe you two would do this... I could... I could just..." He mumbled, before barreling after them.

"Oh shit, run." Misty gasped, grabbing Ash by his upper arm and fleeing from the angry pokemon doctor—he had more than just words to share with his _immature_ friends.

"Hey, I'm not done with them yet, either!" Daisy called after them, leaving the folds of false green paper behind, floating in the water.

 **XOXS**

Ash and Misty were laughing gleefully the whole run, nearly out of breath and tired from the late night escapade, they finally lost Brock and Daisy about a mile out from Cerulean Cave by dipping into a small enclosure off the side of the road that hid them beside a tree off the path. Because they wore such dark clothing, they blended right into the scenery. They relaxed against the roots of the tree they ducked beside, and exhaled carefully. Adrenaline pumped through their veins, but their laughter was silenced by their hands as they listened to the not-quite-as-athletic Daisy run by them after Brock.

A pause, and then they both relaxed with a chuckle and sigh.

"I can't believe that actually worked." Ash mused, glancing at the road briefly before nestling into the bushes beside Misty once more.

"I know, right?" She scoffed and then pat him on the thigh twice in approval. "You actually did really well, I thought you would mess up."  
Ash rolled his eyes, "What, why?"

"Well you've been so serious lately. I wasn't sure you knew how to have fun anymore." She joked, sticking her tongue out at him. He glared in response, and then grinned, noticing her hand hadn't left his thigh yet, he shifted weirdly. She snatched her hand away quickly, and then tucked a strand of her shortened hair behind her ears.

He pointed. "You cut your hair." He dusted his fingers through her hair, getting an odd look, crossed with mortification while shifting her shoulders away.

"You just noticed?" She mocked.

"Well, to be fair, I _did_ think you or Daisy was kidnapped when I first got here." He challenged her, receiving a chaste chuckle as she exhaled, and leaned on her knees.

"Sorry again, I should have just called and told you what was happening instead of getting you mixed up with this." Misty mumbled. "But I'm so sick of..."  
Ash put up his hand to stop her. "Don't apologize, it's alright." He mused. "Besides, I haven't seen you in years—it's been fun."  
"Hatching a plan to freak Brock and Daisy out is _fun?_ Good to know your sense of humor is still in tact." She teased with a wide grin.

"Hey, you were the one with the plan, you should be the one worried about whose sense of humor is worrisome." Ash replied earnestly, looking at her with narrowed eyes. She looked back and pursed her lips.

"Oh god, when was the last time you _actually_ relaxed, Mr. Pokemon Master? All you do is train your pokemon and travel." She offered in reply, to which he raised an eyebrow.

"It _has_ been awhile..." he muttered, recalling the time he spent in Kalos. "I worked really hard."

"I heard." She spouted. "The little blonde one." Misty gestured with her hand. "told me you kept passing out frequently, why didn't you mention that when we talked?"

Ash's face flushed, and he scratched his cheek. "I guess I didn't want you to worry."

She scoffed in reply. "I worry more when _you don't_ tell me." She muttered and Ash felt heat rush to his face.

"So, what? I'm supposed to call you _every time_ I do something worrisome? I'll never be off the phone!" He gasped, looking at her with wide eyes right as she turned to face him, their noses bumped in the small enclosure, and they both retracted immediately, blushing fiercely.

"I don't mean call me all the time—but it would be nice to know that you're taken care of."

"My friends took care of me.." he wagered, but then Misty glanced up at him meekly.

"I am your friend, too." She scolded. "And so is Brock."

"You know, this is pretty funny coming from someone who just hatched an entire plan about _not_ making people worry falsely." Ash grunted, peering into the forest ahead of them. Misty froze, and then sighed.

"I know." She offered. "but it was fun, huh?"

"Brock is probably going to be pissed for awhile."  
"That's okay. It's pay back for always butting into my business." Misty hummed while crossing her legs. Ash blinked at her.

"What does he always butt into?"

Her face flushed. "Just stuff."

"Now who's being secretive?" She glared at him and then frowned, but she had no intention to reply.

"You know, I actually _did_ get a _different_ letter before I came here, but when I saw you were still at the gym, I thought it was best not to show you."

"What was it?" She asked skeptically. Ash dug around his back pocket beneath the black pants he threw over his jeans, and pulled out the note in question. Beside him, pikachu covered his eyes with his ears and tucked himself at Ash's side.

Misty unfolded the torn letter and looked inside. It was her handwriting, a letter she wrote a few months ago and she scoffed at herself, reading off the last of the note that basically reviewed her schedule, what kind of pokemon she saw, and who she battled—then some extra stuff about her sisters, and how boring her days at the gym were. Signed elegantly with "I miss you."

She looked up from it and handed it back to him with a soft smile.

"The funny thing about traveling halfway across the world is that I get your letters in the oddest of times. You don't usually send letters anymore, so when I got this with that fake ransom note, I panicked." he admit honestly. "I had no idea how old the note was so I rushed over here as quickly as possible—you know, what if you had gone missing months ago when the letter was sent..." He grunted. "I did miss an awful lot of our phone calls, and I never checked if you had left any emails for me, so I freaked out." He managed, scratching his chin.

Ash couldn't look at her when he continued; "So when you said you wanted to _prank_ Brock and Daisy, I felt inclined to join in."  
"'m glad my mayhem still resonates with you." Misty murmured happily, watching him with mirthful eyes. He pursed his lips at her.

"I used to be mayhem and _you_ were the reasonable one." He laughed loudly. "What happened?"

She extended her neatly manicured fingers and pinched his cheek playfully; "You grew up."

He turned at her, lips parted slightly and one eye closed from her pinched when her palm straightened out to brush his cheek.

"I really do miss you." she said softly, cradling his cheek for a minute. Ash fought the urge to lean into her warmth before she snatched it away and held her hands to her chest. "Anyways, we should probably head back before they start too worry too much again." Misty hummed quietly while motioning for Ash to follow her.

They both stood up slowly, dusting the dirt off their pants when Ash looked up at her, tagging her by the hand.

"Hey, Mist." Ash mumbled, turning her around quizzically.

"What?"

"Does Brock bother you about us, as well?"

Her face flushed at the outspoken question and she shuffled her feet. "W-why would you ask that?"

"Well, you keep avoiding it, and besides..." Ash grinned a little. "He kind of told me on the way to Cerulean Cave."

Misty made a mental note to strangle Brock later—he was supposed to take her secret to his grave. That was what friends did, instead, he ratted her out! She paused, of course, _she might have deserved it_ , she was still frustrated.

"Well, he does some—did you just say as well?" she snapped, looking at him oddly. His face turned red, and he suddenly separated himself from her hand.

"ah, yeah." he grumbled. "He tries to...sometimes he used to..."  
Behind them, pikachu watched in pure frustration, and then sighed immensely, releasing a soft 'chaaa' before he ran, then jumped quickly onto Ash's head, projecting him forward with one thrust that tripped him over his feet, and directly onto Misty who screamed loudly. Pikachu winced as that did _not_ go as he expected.

"What the hell, pikachu?" Misty moaned, rubbing her head—that was the second time she smacked her head on the ground today; anymore and she was looking at a concussion. Ash struggled to find grip for his hands as he shambled to get off of her.

"Sorry." Ash grunted, also rubbing his forehead. He hit her shoulder on the way down and could feel a headache starting to build. His hat fell off, revealing the fake blood she put on his head. Her fingers found perch there, suddenly having a mind of their own.

"I can't believe they didn't realize you weren't really injured."

Ash groaned. "I'm pretty sure their minds were occupied with something else." Ash mused, looking down at her. Misty's hands hadn't moved from where they cupped his cheeks, and he leaned down until their noses were touching.

"Have you ever thought we were _strange_?" He asked, blinking at her.

"...no." She confirmed. "I thought you were strange."

His lips flattened and he narrowed his eyes at her, unmoving and unblinking. A serious look the young Ash she once knew would have never made. She started to sweat slightly at the exposure of his body heat against hers, and her nerves started to race through her body in jots of adrenaline. Slowly, her eyes closed expectantly, and her breath hitched.

"I missed you, too." He offered, but then his warmth was gone in a breathe, and he was brushing off the dirt from his body. She blinked up at him when he extended his hand to help her up and she growled.

"Let's go back." He sung happily, and Misty's jaw fell open. _What_?!

She followed him, awestruck for a time before she hissed, and stormed beside him with pikachu at her heels.

"Ash Ketchum, what was that?!" She shrieked, getting an alarmed, terrified look from him in response.

"What was what?" He asked, blinking at her.

"That!" She gestured behind them.

"I don't know what you mean..." He muttered weakly, and Misty finally snapped.

"Do you remember that time when you came back from Hoenn briefly and Brock locked us in that closet together—what do you think he was trying to do?"  
Ash's face turned beet red as she stood in front of him with her hands at her hips. "How about that time when you were in Sinnoh and Brock put on a call between you and I and then quizzed us on personalities and relationship?" His eyes shifted, looking for an escape, but her index finger had pressed into his chest and he swallowed hard.

"And what do you think he was doing when he continuously called you throughout Unova and bothered you to remember details about me, and keep up with where I was and who I was dating? How about when he sent you letters describing how much I loved Kalos and not so secretly dropped that I wanted to visit the Prism Tower?" She groaned, rolling her eyes. Ash blinked once, and then again, and then he shuddered.

She waited to see if the information would click, stared into his brown eyes for a long time—but then she realized he was the living embodiment of a brick wall.

"He knows that I like you, Ash!" She gasped, throwing up her arms. "There, I said it! Now your turn!"

"I like you, too!" He said quickly, and Misty felt her head spin. He missed the point. "You're my best fr-"

She grabbed his collar, twisted the fabrics between her fingers, and then brought his lips to hers in a fit before pushing him away with a dark scowl. He covered his lips with his hand, flabbergasted at such an expression of love and his stomach danced. Misty put her hands on her hips, and stared him down. Ash thought for a long time before not-so-subtly licking his lips, and then pouncing back at her, cupping her cheeks with his hands and kissing her once more. Eagerly, she grabbed his wrists and then worked her hands back slowly until she wrapped her arms around his neck eagerly.

They separated a few minutes later, blushing and out of breath.

"I wanted to tell you on my own time." Ash breathed, and Misty felt her heart twist—somewhere, in the depths of his oblivious heart, Ash _was_ a romantic.

"And when was _that_ going to be?" She snarled, forcing herself not to roll her eyes.

"When everyone else stopped trying to force it." He laughed modestly. "So...you know, when we were dead."

She punched him in the chest and then spun on her heels to move away from him quickly. He laughed loudly at her reaction.

"I was just kidding!" He gasped, holding hid chest and running at her to take her arm in his.

"Brock _never_ hears about this." She warned him, and Ash grinned from ear to ear.

"Never."  
However, in the distance, Daisy and Brock sat huddled behind a rock with the forgotten pikachu.

"Wow, to think Misty actually made the first move in the end." Daisy hummed, quirking and eyebrow. Brock, who stood beside her with tears in his eyes wiped them carefully. Daisy didn't seem as impressed as she crawled out of the shrubbery and onto the road.

"Would you keep your blubbering to yourself? Our plan worked, didn't it?" Aside from some _glaring_ mistakes, of course.  
"I-I know." Brock whined, looking at Ash and Misty's backs. "but... I-I can't believe I was the one that helped them."

He leaned on Daisy, crying onto her shoulder while she pat his brown hair awkwardly. "It was about time one of our plans worked. I thought for sure that this was going to be another failure when he got up to leave without kissing her."

Brock eyed her, and then looked back at the new couple. "That reminds me. I won our bet since Misty made the first move after all." Brock grumbled, holding out his hand. Daisy's mood flipped entirely as she laughed into her hand and jogged away slowly.

"...Hey! You owe me money!" He shouted, following after her.

"Pikkaa!" The mouse cried, chasing after Brock with a strong exhale.

 **Some hours earlier...**

"So did someone actually kidnap Daisy?" Ash asked when he reached the top of the floor with Misty. He glanced over his shoulder to Brock who had taken to investigating the bottom hallway and then glanced at Misty who pursed her lips, her attitude having changed one hundred percent the moment she was separated from Brock.

His eyebrows raised when he saw the smeared mascara under her eyes. "Have you been crying?"

Her attention snapped up to him, and she touched her face, leading him down the hallway and into the living quarters of the gym. "Oh, yeah."

His face softened. "Are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine." She said nonchalantly while licking her lips and turning to Ash with raised eyebrows. His scrunched in return.

"Your sister was just-"  
"Who do you think sent you that letter?"

Ash blinked once or twice, and then his eyes darted around the room, shrugging. "...I don't know?"

"I did." Misty confirmed with skepticism that made Ash gasp defensively.

"You what?" he paused. "Why would you kidnap your own sister?" He asked seconds later, confusion laced in his voice as he stared awkwardly at her.

Misty heaved a loud sigh, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I did not kidnap her. The whole situation is fake."  
"What?" Ash gasped, hands falling to his sides. "Why?" He asked, his nostrils flaring with anger. Misty held up her hand, agreeing to his anger, but then placed her hand on her shoulder to calm him.

"I'm sorry I sent you a letter like that, really I am, but a couple of days ago I saw Daisy and Brock talking about an elaborate plan to..." She paused with a loud sigh. "Well, I'm sick and tired of them always trying to butt into my business and I figure if I finally get them back good enough, they'll leave me alone. I saw Daisy putting together this half-baked plan a few days ago and decided that I would beat her to it... I'm sorry if I worried you."

Ash's anger faded, replaced by a grin. "What were they scheming about this time?" He asked, and Misty slapped her palm against her forehead.

"It doesn't matter, what matters is I need your help to pull this off."

"Why me?" He asked, and Misty blushed—she couldn't tell him it was because they were attempting to get them together, and that's why he was the prime candidate. Instead she scrunched up her nose.

"Because all of my other friends wouldn't support my bad decisions."  
Ash scowled. "And I will?"

"It's just a little fun." She offered, holding up her fingers. Ash's face fell before he frowned at her.

"Misty I.."

"Remember when we were kids?" She interrupted him. "And we used to have a bunch of fun tag teaming everyone else? This will be like that, but our last time, I promise." She begged, pressing her hands together and closing her eyes at Ash. Her face scrunched up, and her eyebrows lowered cutely.

He sighed, his shoulders lowering. "How can I say no?" He asked, and then grinned.

"Besides, it'll be fun to get Brock back for all those times he..." he paused, glanced at Misty who waited expectantly for his reply—but Ash couldn't tell her how many times Brock had tried to push Ash into awkward situations with Misty. Instead he pointed at her. "Anyways, what's the plan?"

"Well..." Misty grinned mischievously, reminding Ash how much he missed that look. "Let's just say that we're going to get even."

 **Author's Note:**

I think I might have been drunk when I wrote this. -laughs-

I have this head canon (I have a billion of them, don't hate me hahah) that Brock has compulsively through the years been the biggest pokeshipper of them all, and both Ash _and_ Misty are well aware of his attempts, but are not aware that the other one knows about them.

When I thinking of the word 'scheming' I think of huge, elaborate plans like this; fake kidnapping, fake deaths, etc. So, I hope you're happy with that Razor of Doom, this ended up being quite fun to write. XD If I didn't already spoil the ending, I might have turned this into a full, elaborate story.

Hope you guys enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5: Prof Ivy

**Pairing** : Ash/Misty brOTP

 **Genre:** Humor/Friendship

 **Rating** : T

 **Summary:** In which Ash and Misty bother Brock about Professor Ivy. One-Shot

 **Requested by** : LEGAL-EAGLE53

 **XOXs**

They wondered for _years_ what Brock did at Professor Ivy's laboratory. For years, Ash and Misty bothered their old time companion for answers regarding the scenario, but he would always avoid the subject at any chance possible.

Today was the day, seven years later, standing at twenty years old, Brock would tell the tale.

Because Ash and Misty were going to make him.

The duo in question sat huddled behind the kitchen wall in the Ketchum household, they each carried a little bit of wisdom and a lot of questions; but even more than that, they were driven by an act of curiosity, especially now more than ever.

"I bet she was some kind of creepazoid." Misty chimed, peeking into the kitchen where Brock wore his classical pink apron and carefully flipped and scooped the meal he was cooking. He gave Delia the night off, and he and Clemont shared in cooking duties—the latter had gotten caught up with an invention, and was escorted out of the kitchen by his younger sister and Serena.

The subject of what happened with Professor Ivy came out of no where; while they were told never to speak of it on their journeys through johto, it had been _years_ since the incident in question; whatever happened, Brock must have wanted to share.

"I can't believe he never cracked about it before. I traveled with him for _years_ after he left." Ash grimaced, looking a his red-haired friend. "Do you really think she might have been..." He gestured with his hands, getting a huff of frustration from Misty.

"A creep?"

"No, the other word." Misty paused for a moment, watching his hand movements and then rolled her eyes.

"Ash, that's disgusting! Why would you think that?" She gagged, glaring at the raven-haired boy who shrugged in response.

"I don't know, you said she was a creep."

"I didn't mean it like..." She growled, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Whatever, just... let's go!" Misty chirped, throwing Ash into the kitchen by the scruff of his neck. He dusted off his black tee-shirt with the palms of his hand as Misty rounded the corner into the kitchen, leaning against the table at the same time as Ash.

"Hey Brocko." Ash started, folding his arms inconspicuously. Misty copied his actions.

"What'cha cookin'?" She asked with a tight lipped grin.

He knew them both too well, apart, they were manageable, _mature_. Together, it was a lot like sharing a house with two primeapes who liked to throw food at each other and yell a bunch. The tone of their voice, so curious and demeaning, he knew what they would ask of him before the question left his mouth.

"I'm not telling you what happened with professor Ivy!" He shouted, turning away from them and mixing his soup voraciously. Ash nearly fell over at the assumption, but Misty remained strong.

"Why not!? It's been forever!" Misty whined, all but stomping her feet. Ash followed quickly with a nod and Brock turned at them once more.

"That's exactly the point, it's been like seven years, can't you two find something else to obsess about?"  
Ash looked at his invisible watch and then playfully back up at Brock. "Not until at least sun down." He chuckled and Misty nodded her agreement and then looked mischievously over at Ash.

"I bet we can get it out of him before then." She offered the challenge and Ash stuck out his hand.

"It's a deal then." And they shook on it, right in front of the man in question.

"I'm still standing here!" Brock whined, and the duo shrugged.

In unison they said: "I know."

As the duo left the kitchen exchanging plans to break the poor man's soul, he rubbed his temples. This was just his luck. He came to visit during Ash's between time of Kalos and Alola, and _this_ of course would happen to him. Brock could never just visit peacefully with his friends, it _always_ turned into some kind of battle, or adventure, or _embarrassing tale_. For a brief respite, he wondered if Ash's other friends knew just how _cruel_ he was when Misty was around.

 **XOXs**

Maybe cruel wasn't the best word to describe Ash's odd behavior when Misty was around—she definitely brought out the child in him; which in turn, brought out the child in Brock.

"C'mon, Brock. Just a hint."

Since asking out right had gone awry, they were playing the guessing game. A weird combination of good cop and bad cop.

Misty was always the bad cop, and Ash was the good cop. They sat opposite of him in the living room on the sofa, while Brock sat on the recliner. Misty cupped her chin with her left hand and Ash sat forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Was she already married when you tried hitting on her?" Misty asked with raised eyebrows. Brock nearly spit out his drink.

"Misty, that's horrible!"

"So no." Misty looked at Ash who sat back and tapped his chin.

"Was she..." he looked at Misty and then back at Brock, "actually a male?"

Brock's face paled, and his mouth fell open. "Ash, it should be a sin to call such a-"

"Hey wait, why did you look at me!?" Misty shouted, astounded at Ash's question as he looked away from the redhead and crossed his legs over one another. Misty sneered, and then turned her eyes back at Brock viciously.

"What a waste of a question—of course she's a female!" Misty gestured to her chest, indication that Ivy was well endowed. "But I actually think you might have gotten her pregnant and fled the scene—eehhh Brock?" Misty's eyebrows danced, but Brock didn't seem as amused.

"Misty, I took care of my ten brothers and sisters...why would you even think that?" He asked in a flat tone. Misty sat back while Ash snorted.

"Alright, that was too far." Misty apologized, putting up her arms. "Was it because you had a small penis?"  
"Misty!" Ash and Brock said in unison.

"Language!" Ash groaned awkwardly, and Misty rolled her eyes at Ash, and waved him down to sit once more. Brock's mouth opened, then closed, and then he stared flabbergasted at Misty's assumption.

"...How would you even..."

"I don't! I was just asking. God." Misty groaned, her face turning red. Boys could be so awkward sometimes. Ash settled back and looked from Misty, and then back to Brock.

"Maybe it was because she was dating Professor Oak?" Ash smiled and Brock stood up for that one, pointed at his companions, went to speak, and then stormed away without doing so.

"I think we made him angry..." Ash mused, sparing a worried glance at Misty. She returned the look and sighed.

"At least he's not curling up into a ball and lying on the ground anymore...that's improvement, right?"  
Ash laughed nervously at that. "I would hope he doesn't do that seven years after the incident."

Misty ruffled her hair in frustration. "What could it be?" She wondered aloud, sharing a long sigh with Ash.

 **XOXs**

His companions from Kalos were just getting settled in that night after dinner when Ash and Misty turned to one another. The table was cleared, Ash's companions were preparing for bed, and Brock was avoiding them. Brock hadn't spoken a single word to them since the incident, and the both sighed.

"I think we really hurt his feelings, Ash." Misty mumbled, Ash pursed his in response.

"It was your idea..." he muttered pathetically, slumped over in his chair while resting his chin on the dinning table. Misty glared at him and tapped her nails on the table while Ash looked up at her.

" _You_ were the one talking about everything that happened at the Orange Islands." Ash blurted confidently.

Misty scoffed, "Yeah, but _you_ brought up what happened on that blimp when Brock left."

"But it was _you_ who brought up-" "Why are we arguing about this?!" Misty snapped, cutting him off.

"We both asked questions, we _both_ need to apologize." Misty commanded while looking tiredly at Ash.

"I guess so." He whined, and looked up at her. "I just feel bad for bringing it up now, you know? I thought that maybe after so long he would actually have a good laugh about it." Ash recited while Misty clapped him on the shoulder in confidence.

"I did, too." She said sadly. "But, since that wasn't the case, we should go apologize."

 **XOXs**

Brock sat in Ash's bedroom, against the railing of the windowsill, looking out into the night sky. He and Ash were sharing a room, while everyone else was given variations of the guest room.

"Hey, Brock." Ash hummed as he entered, though the older man said nothing in return. Ash tossed his hand up weakly to wave while Misty followed him in slowly, and shut the door quietly behind him.

"Listen..." She started, with her fingers intertwining. She looked at Ash, and then back to the stoic Brock. "We're sorry, we thought that you would be able to laugh about it now."

"We were out of place and we're sorry..." Ash finished with Misty nodded strongly beside him.

A pregnant pause formed between Brock and the duo before he slowly slumped off of the sill, and onto the floor, bumping his head against the wall behind him.

"It's just... not my proudest moment, you know?"

Ash and Misty looked at one another curiously, and then back at Brock.

"What do you mean?"

Brock looked at them with hardened eyes, and licked his teeth under his lips. "It wasn't anything crazy; she wasn't married, she was never a man or a rapist or a pedophile, we never did _anything._ " he looked at each of his friends for a few second each and said once more. " _Anything_."

"Then what did happen?" Ash gaped, and then covered his mouth when Misty slapped his arm to shush him.

Brock snorted.

"Would you believe me if I said it actually had to do with our job?" His voice laced over in discomfort, pushing a strangled noise from the back of his throat. He had closed his eyes to think over the event when both Ash and Misty took a seat beside him. Ash kicked out his feet, and Misty curled hers close to her chest. The nudged him simultaneously.

"You don't have to tell us."

"Yeah, Brock. Regardless of what happened, we're never going to judge you."  
Misty snorted. "Well..." she started but a glare from Ash silenced her sarcasm.

Brock opened his eyes and looked at his two friends, and then draped his arms over their shoulder, bringing them in for an awkward hug.

"I love you guys." He mused, getting a nervous laugh from Ash and a glare from Misty—her personal space was being invaded, and his armpit was touching her shoulder. Both were bad things, but she wasn't about the brush him off. She forced an awkward smile and shared a slightly concerned look with Ash.

Brock swallowed hard, and then exhaled.

"I messed up." He said confidently, "A lot." He finished and both of his companions eyebrows raised.

"And she was..." A shudder ran down his spine, as a barely audible whisper escaped his lips. " _The devil_."

Misty sneered. "The devil?" She asked, and Ash shared a worried look with Brock.

"Man." He started. "Take anything that Misty has ever done—chased us with plush mallets, threatened to beat us with bits of wood and pull on my ear—and then multiply it by a billion—but all she had to do was _look_ at you and your whole body would just..."

Ash's voice dropped low as he frantically looked between Brock and Misty. "But she seemed so normal—so _kind_?"

"On the outside, and in social she was." Brock confirmed, holding up a finger. "But in the lab she was..." he paused, unable to say the worlds "and I was new, so of course I messed up a few times, you know and man, were the punishments unmanageable." He inhaled. "One time, she left me outside during hurricane weather because I accidentally replaced a breeding serum with vioplums toxins, so many of the pokemon she was handling got really sick."

"To be fair that's kind of a big deal." Misty argued, eyebrows narrowed.

"Then this other time..." As Brock rambled, keeping them close to his body by the neck, Ash and Misty shared a look of pure frustration. They opened an irreversible can of worms with no end in sight.

 **XOXs**

When they left Ash's bedroom that morning, they were given looks of absolute torment from the rest of their group—neither had been sure when they passed out, or at what point Brock left them to begin cooking breakfast, but they were exhausted. There was no doubt in their mind that they had only spent the last hour asleep.

"You two look like hell." Brock whined, looking at Ash and Misty who narrowed their eyes at Brock.

"That's because _you_ kept us up all night with your crazy stories about Professor I-"

"Please, Ash, don't say her name. If I have to listen to one more story about how she opened and closed the door sixteen times until it shut perfectly, I'm going to throw myself out the window." Misty groaned, rubbing her aching forehead.

"What are you talking about?" Brock asked, eyes innocently glaring at his two friends. "You two kicked me out last night after dinner." He argued. "I slept on the couch."  
Ash's face paled, as he looked at his friends at the table, who glanced back down at their plates, and then back at Brock who served another plate of pancakes. Misty froze at the coffee machine and looked to Brock with a very observant twitch in her eye.

"You liar." Misty hummed. "You were there. Telling stories." Misty threatened, but Brock shrugged.

"No, I slept on the couch, right Clemont?"

"I did see him get up from the couch this morning."  
"That's because he left early."

"Misty, it's okay. You two are old enough." Brock confirmed meekly, and a roaring blush fell over Ash and Misty's face.

"Oh, Brock..." Misty muttered in a low, threatening tone. "I see what you're doing." She said while pointing her finger at him while he sat back.

"I'm not doing anything..." He assured them both, pursing his lips innocently while Delia came stomping down the stairs.

The mother took one look at Ash, and then another at Misty—seeing first their disheveled appearances, and next the bags under their eyes.

Ash looked helplessly at Brock, his mouth ajar with a look of utmost betrayal in his eyes.

"You told my mom...?" He managed before the motherly scolding voice bellowed from behind him.

"Upstairs." Delia commented, then shouted for affect. "Now!"

Both Ash and Misty hustled quickly from the kitchen in fear of incurring the woman's wrath. At the table, Serena, Clemont and Bonnie scoot their food around their plates while Brock watched them run up the stares swearing at each other. Delia gave the rest of them a look, and then turned to follow them up herself.

"Hmm, I wonder what that was about...?" Brock hummed before turning away and starting back on his pancakes, waiting until the others could no longer see his face before a sinister grin pushed over his lips.

 **XOXs**.

The biggest difference when Ash and Misty returned was the distance they had placed between each other, and lack of association. Neither could look at each other in the eye, and Misty was sure that she had never been more embarrassed in her life. Ash was determined to erase the memory with battling and _years_ away from the redhead.

"So, did'ya have fun?" Brock asked, instigating a nervous reaction of pure, unadulterated anger. It was well past noon—which meant Delia _talked_ with them for well over four hours, and both were cranky. Upon hearing their oldest companions expression, though, they both turned on him, working together.

"No, Brock. We didn't even do anything and we just had to-" Misty froze, seeing Ash's arm press against her own. "Too close." She paused, nudging Ash away and he jumped away from her. Slowly, her glare turned back on Brock.

"I just had to listen to Ash's mom give us _the sex talk_ with grotesque details of her—oh god...I think I'm going to be sick." Misty muttered, holding her stomach and turning away. Ash followed up and glared at Brock.

"Do you know how awkward that was? Do you? I feel like I've been stripped of all my innocence—she made me look at pictures of when I was being _born_." Ash growled, grabbing Brock's vest, though the man did not seem phased by such occurrence.

A moment passed as a sudden estranged ticking in their mind erupted at the same time and both Ash and Misty spun on their heels to look at one another and then back at Brock.

"That's what you were so upset about!?"

"Hey, to be fair, Ivy gave me a list of every reason on the planet that I should stop trying to pick up women. I thought for a little while I was gay until she told me what I could catch from that... With pictures and lists and terrible, terrible stories. It was like sexual education, but the kind that makes you want to become a nun."

"So you made _us_ suffer...?" Misty groaned in a strained voice.

"Why?" Ash added, his voice was also strained.

"Because you kept asking, and now you know.. though, I imagine Delia was a lot less gruesome than Professor Ivy... Though the pictures were a nice touch." Brock mumbled thoughtfully, crossing his arms. A long pause followed in which Ash and Misty looked at one another with brimming hatred in their eyes.

Misty was fuming, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly before shouting: "I am _so_ going to kill you!"

"I'm going to help!" Ash added determinedly, eyes narrowed. Misty looked at him and held out her arm.

"...from about a foot away at all times." Ash added thoughtfully and the duo nodded their agreement before approaching the older male. Brock took a slow step away from them and gulped.

"C'mon guys, can't you take a joke...?"  
Ash and Misty closed in on him before Brock turned and started his run, shouting for help on his way out of the house.

"I'm sorry!" He yelled. "I didn't mean to I swear!" Brock yelped as Misty tackled him followed closely by Ash.

"Have _mercy_!"

 **Author's Note:**

So I had to think about what would be so traumatizing to a thirteen year old that would cause them to literally sit down on the ground and have a panic attack when someone's name came up. More importantly, what would be so traumatizing to _Brock_? I am 100 percent against the idea of an Ivy/Brock relationship, because I think it's sick and I don't think Brock would do any of those things. (The questions Ash and Misty asked were the most famous fan theories btw...like, wth xD;)

HOWEVER, I really got to thinking about it, and I was going to _originally_ leave it as Professor Ivy was just a scary person, like a drill sergeant in the army or something—but then the more I thought about it, the less I thought that would make Brock weep at the thought of her. So I took the other route—while it was still _technically_ sexual related, it was in the parental, "I'm going to scare you into never having sexual relations _ever_ " type thing.

As a professor who no doubt noticed Brock having a thing for her, I could see in a comical fashion, Ivy being his first sexual education coach. Seeing how _obsessive_ Brock was about it, I could also see her being one of those crazy ones that share horrifying stories and while I didn't explicitly state those—you can imagine, can't you? So, I hope that's reasonable; I don't think Brock is the kind of character to partake in _any_ of the current fan theories, but I could see the later two affecting a 13 year old pretty terribly.

Maybe not my best written? I think Ash and Misty were a bit ooc. Eitherway, enjoy~


	6. Chapter 6: Accidents

**Pairing** : Ash/Misty

 **Genre:** Hurt/Comfort/Drama

 **Rating** : T (language, violence, coarse language)

 **Summary:** In which Misty gets into a severe accident, and Ash seeks to turn back time. Can he save her? story-board

 **Requested by** : Mrs. Nose

 **XOXs**

This couldn't have been happening.

Years after traveling together, his mom was still _her_ emergency contact. Brock was listed as her second, but her sisters were no where to be seen.

"What's your relationship to the patient?"

"Close family friend..." Delia squeaked out, rubbing her sore throat. She had screamed over the phone for so long, it had almost turned raw.

"Does she have any relatives."

Delia paused for a very long moment; "A fiance, I think? And three sisters."

The brown eyes doctor pointed to Ash, and cocked his eyebrows. The doctor tossed a thin finger his direction, and a careless shrug.

"Are you the fiance?"

Ash's mother interjected right away, "No, this is my son. They're childhood friends."

No sooner than the words left Delia's mouth did Ash snap, bolting out of his chair in a huff.

"He cheated on her! She might as well not have one!" Ash bellowed loudly.

His voice was a sharp his that echoed down the white walls of the hospital where he, Brock, and his mother Delia were seated in the lobby. Green plants poked around every corner, and brightly colored, cheerful pictures hung against the walls, taunting him. Ash's fists shook at his sides, but luckily, his dark skinned friend, Brock, stood beside him to grab his shaking fists and guide him back into the seat where he threw Brock off with a flip of his arm, and stormed away from the surprised doctor, and a worried mother.

"I'm sorry..." Delia said, but the doctor told her not to worry about it as he took down more notes.

Ash needed air, there was no other way to explain it. He felt the adrenaline in his veins, pushing him well past the point of sleep. His entire body ached, from head to toe. Ash hadn't slept in over twenty four hours. He was in north Sinnoh at the snow point when his mom had finally gotten a hold of him. Being a _pokemon_ _master,_ Ash was on a routine trip to the region to investigate a level of complaints fitted with the appearance of a legendary pokemon, however, he had been not one foot out of the jeep he shared with the regional professor when his phone started to buzz constantly.

Twelve hours later, he was in the urgent care unit of the hospital where his mother waited expectantly for Ash's arrival along side Brock, who had been at the hospital since the start of her emergency surgery.

 _Head Trauma. Three broken ribs. Internal bleeding. Bruised abdomen. Neck trauma. Laceration of the left calf. Numerous bruising._

 _Immediate surgery. Shrapnel. Possible spinal injury. Concussion._

 _Head on collision._

Ash felt his head spin and his guts lurched, trying to recall everything the nurse had informed his mother of when he was present after the surgery. She checked out okay. They told them that she was a fighter, made it through the surgery like a trooper, and she was hanging on.

 _Barely_ the nurse added as an afterthought with a face scrunched up to say otherwise.

 _Barely,_ was right. The other guy, the _bastard_ who hit her purple-blue impala, went through the windshield at the point of contact, brains spilled across the floor of the asphalt, a blood splatter here, a crushed bone there. Ash was fortunate enough _no_ t to see the accident, but the description from Officer Jenny was more than enough to paint the horrible picture in his mind. _She_ had been barely conscious when they found her, slipping in an out of awareness. Leading belief of a head injury was the innate lack of works, but her eyes worked, the men and women who called in the accident said that she _smiled_ at them. She was alive before surgery. She was alive after. _She was a fighter_.

Selfishly, a part of Ash believed that she wasn't fighting hard enough. He slipped, down to his knees at the railing. His vision was blurry and he wasn't sure what he didn't eat that day was going to stay down. Ash was twenty-four, he should have been well aware that people died. After all, his own _father_ passed away when he was just a boy, but he couldn't bare the thought that one of his friends, his best friend was.

Clear bile spilled onto the pavement below the balcony Ash hunched over. While he wiped his lip, a shudder ran through him while he chided his inability to withstand the news—here he was, feeling sorry for himself, and _he_ wasn't the one strapped to some hospital bed with foreign objects piercing his skin, keeping him alive. _He_ wasn't the one that spent six hours in surgery. _He_ wasn't the one who was his head on at 6:00am in the morning on a daily routine to work.

Ash was healthy, generally happy, he didn't have a lot to complain about—but now this, _oh this_ , he thought with a scrunch of his nose. His throat burned as if someone placed a match to the insides of his mouth. This was too much.

 **XOXS**

Ash returned thirty minutes later after a quick stop in at the bathroom where he washed his face and rinsed his mouth. In his anger, he had all but forgotten about pikachu who was curled pathetically on Brock's lap while Ash straightened and adjusted his cap, before removing it in respect for other patients in the waiting room.

His mother paced the floor, the gentle tap of her heels creating a soothing affect in his otherwise hostile, crazed emotions. He slumped into the blue, leather seat beside Brock, and exhaled.

"Feel any better?" Brock asked worriedly, looking at him with stroking pikachu's worried head. Ash had profound respect for Brock, being about to stay _so_ calm in such a horrible situation.

Without speaking, Ash shook his head to indicate that he did no feel better—in fact, puking made him feel worse. His tanned skin was a pasty white, his lips were raw and dry from dehydration, and his eyes had dark rings around them, more prominent than his lightning bolt scars. Every sound in the hospital silenced his beating heart, made his fist that he properly lodged into her _fiance's_ jaw sting more, and made his pocket burn where she called him three hours prior to her accident, and he ignored it.

Intentionally. _He ignored it intentionally._.

How he wished he could take back the snark-the bitter remarks they shared. He would trade them, as well as his beating heart if it meant she would just open her eyes.

 **XOXS**

Forty-eight hours in, she was unresponsive to medication; the only indication she was still alive was the faint whisper of the heart monitor stationed at the corner of her room. No one was allowed to go in. _too frail, too weak_. They could hurt her if they moved her arms. The damage to her internal organs, her bones were worse than they thought. Most people, they kept telling the trio, would have already been dead. But she hang on. She fought on.

Hearing that anyone else would be dead didn't make Ash feel any better though while he placed his forehead against the glass that separated them from the patient's room. Her red hair was matted to the sides of her neck—it had grown out past her shoulders, but now looked like heaps of yarn placed delicately over her pale flesh. She wore the traditional white hospital gown, with blue polka-dots, had the comfortable pink bedding that she would have made jokes about.

 _"I don't like the color pink_ " she would complain when they were kids. Ash's face scrunched up. He stared at her face the longest, the hollow, sunken cheeks—the yellow above her right eye indicating the start of a very deep bruise, and the white bandage over her forehead. The left side of her head had been shaved for surgery, and was wrapped with gauze and tapped down with the best tensor bandage they could find. Gone was the natural light from her flesh, the rosy cheeks of determination, and the fiery complexion of her eyes. She was gray, and _dying._

Her arms were littered with IV needles, and she had an oxygen tube _or something_ shoved into her throat to keep her breathing. They had reconstruction the frame of her body to keep her ribs from crushing her lungs, and her internal organs had been twisted to the point that what couldn't be salvaged was removed and patched up.

At the start, Ash joked that when she woke up she would _love_ only having one kidney and half a large intestine: but that didn't seem so funny now that he was looking at her gray skin. Forty-eight hours, and her results which were hopeful at the start, were dwindling. Lab results ran on her brain and nervous system were coming back worse, and the faint of her heart beat was worsening by the minute.

A whisper.

His eyes slipped closed as he exhaled, his breath mashed against the window, fogging a small portion of it up while Delia slipped her hands onto her sons shoulders. None of them had left, or showered, or eaten since they arrived, and so the older woman's hands shook when she grasped him.

"We should get you some sleep, or food, dear." She whispered, but Ash dismissed her with a shrug and lowered eyelids.

"I'm fine." he said weakly. "I'm not leaving until..." the words wouldn't come. Until what? Until she woke up? Until she... No! He couldn't think it, couldn't feel it; couldn't be tempted by it. His stomach turned at the idea.

He swallowed, looking into his mother's hazel eyes, and she dipped her head forward and hissed him on the cheek before looking over at Brock.

"We're going to go grab some breakfast and coffee then... We'll be back shortly. Call us if anything changes." his mother said sweetly, calming even the most riled of Ash's nerves. He exhaled and nodded to her while pikachu bounced back from standing near Brock, to Ash's side loyally.

Brock couldn't take it, if anyone was handling the situation as bad as Ash, it was him. They had all been friends for years, _best friends_. Brock wasn't as brave as Ash, he wasn't as strong as her. So when he looked at Ash with those hurt, defeated eyes. Ash wanted to lash out and tell him to quick thinking in such away.

 _She wasn't going to die!_.

But Delia had that look, too, as if she already accepted it. Ash turned away from if his mother and friend, to look on, back at the woman laying in bed. Pikachu popped onto his shoulder with little ease and nuzzled his trainer on the neck comfortingly. The warmth couldn't penetrate his heart now, though. Ash was slipping, tired, angry, unreachable.

The doctors said it wasn't good. Said if she did wake up there was no telling what the damage to her head was like—they found blood spotting in her cranium. Fractured skull, but still breathing. It was bad, Ash knew that. He also knew that she was a strong, insanely independent woman, and she wasn't _going to die_.

When the thought reached him again, his teeth grit hard, and while tearing his gaze away from her limp body, he pressed the palms of his hands against his face and exhaled. Salty tears would have dripped if he had anymore to cry. Instead, they pooled in his eyes and went no further. Why did this have to happen to _her_? She was the _safe_ one!

She had the same job everyday, she trained younger students, she attended swim meets and track meets—and she volunteered at the pokemon center. She stayed in the same city, she didn't branch out, and she didn't travel—Ash spent a majority of his life scaling dangerous mountain sides, falling over twenty feet cliffs, falling into water at unreasonable distances, being nearly blown up on several occasion, sky diving without parachutes— _he_ was the most likely to die by accident.

Not _her_ , damn it!

Heart rate slowing, stifling the tears that had built up, he placed a shaking, swollen hand against the glass and spoke.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye, _Misty._ "

 **Author's Note**

This was a request from a very patient Mrs. Nose! :D

I'm actually turning this into a short story, if anyone is interested (you might not be) but I had more to tell about this one (and it'll be relatively short, so...). If you _are_ interested, look for "Until the Day" on my profile in just about a week!

Working on other requests as well, by rotation the next one is for Julie Togepi, but I'm seeing what you guys are leaving! Thanks for the reviews and lovely comments -heart-

NINT


	7. Chapter 7: If you were, It would be OK!

**Pairing** : The anti-harem

 **Genre:** Humor/friendship

 **Rating** : T

 **Summary:** In which Ash's sexual orientation is questioned. One-shot.

 **Requested by** : Julie Togepi

 **XOXs**

So, it came as a surprise to Ash.

 _A big_ surprise.

"I'm... I'm sorry Ash, I just don't...wow." Iris muttered, rubbing her upper arm. "...This is a little awkward."

 _AWKWARD_? That wasn't even half of it. Ash's mouth hung open—he was in the back yard with Iris, ducked away from the small gathering upon his return from Alola. Most of his former companions had traveled there today, a bit older, mature.

...and ready to move forward with their lives.

So was Ash.

Well, so he thought.

"...How..." Ash started, gasping for air. "Did you get that idea?"

Iris gave a sharp shrug and rubbed the back of her neck—standing as the new champion of Unova, she twitched uncomfortably.

"Well... it's just that you've never shown any interest before, you know? Everyone else thought..." Iris added, and Ash's tanned face paled.

"Everyone else!? Other people think this!?" Ash panicked, eyes wide. Iris laughed nervously in return while her former companion spun on his heels to march back into the house. His foot steps bellowed and cracked as he stomped his way to the living room, and looked in at his friends; his face was flushed as he took a better, _more understanding look_ at his companions.

"I'm not gay!"

Silence fell through the room as Iris emerged from the porch, walking inside to take her place beside Cilan and gesture a 'crazy' sign with he hand and hair while eyes fell on Ash.

"Ash... It's okay, we've all known for a long time." Misty smiled to him, her tone sweet.

"Misty!" Ash grunted. "Not you, too!"

"You don't have to be scared of it Ash, we will all love you anyway!" May grinned, twisting her arm around her brother Max's shoulders, and Drew's.

Still, Ash was flabbergasted and shook his head as the 'support' group started in on him. He felt so twisted up inside—just because he didn't fancy the idea of a relationship didn't make him _gay_. It just meant he wasn't ready for a relationship—sure, he was a _little_ slow to the realization, but he still liked girls.

Opening and closing his mouth, Ash spun away from them all throwing up his arms. He couldn't believe this!

 **XOXs**

Thirteen year old Gary Oak had just lost the Johto league—to _Ash_ , goofy, untrained, _Ash_. Gary clearly had the better team, more evolved, _stronger_ pokemon—or so he _thought_. Clearly, Ash had the luck of the gods, or some miracle. Possibly a strong shoulder angel?

But could Gary act upset? No, no. He had to be polite. People expected that from him now, as the grandson of Professor Oak, he had to at least _act_ decent in front of thousands of people—that was new. Over the last two years, he had _also_ grown up quite a lot, matured when he fell short, smiled when he would have frowned before; he became an accepting, caring human being.

However, _Ash_ beat him. _Again_. Ash never won! Sure, Gary had been losing interest in battling—but that didn't make it okay for him to _lose!_ He was furious.

"Hey, that was a great battle, Gary!" Ash chanted, holding his hand out to Gary. The auburn haired loser shook Ash's hand gratefully, and forced his best smile.

"It was. Good job, Ash." Gary murmured before a cheerful Ash switched from humble victory, to an expressive excitement, running laps around the room.

On the bench sat Misty, who clapped gratefully—and somewhere, inside of himself, Gary knew how to get even.

He approached the young red head, who looked up to Gary with large, cerulean-green eyes.

"What's up, Gary?" She asked, with togepi echoing her sentiments. Gary pursed his lips, took a seat beside her with his hands in his pockets while Ash ran to speak with his other rivals, talking about how he would "win, but they should all do their best!"

"Have you figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out, Gary?" Misty mused honestly, following his eyes to Ash.

"You know...how Ash is." He started, trying to keep a straight face. Misty's nose scrunched up, thinking a lot of things; he was brash, unreasonable, kind, strange, oblivious—Ash was a lot of things really.

"What do you mean?" She managed thoughtfully.

"Well, you know. _His big secret_." Gary gestured to him, then held his index finger to his lip. Misty's face scrunched up—there was no way Misty didn't know Ash's secrets! He was like an open book! They were best friends; what could Gary know that she didn't already? She didn't look impressed, in fact, she looked _annoyed_ by his comment.

Gary would use that to his advantage.

"He didn't tell you?" Gary asked, covering his mouth. "Well, I don't blame him—he's never been comfortable with it." Gary mused sadly, lathering on the worry thick. Clearly, the redhead was interested while she leaned in to listen to Gary. She didn't want to admit she didn't know.

So, instead, she played along—eyes on Ash.

"Of course he told me! He tells Brock and _I_ everything." She muttered, snapping her face away from him. Gary grinned in response—this was going to be too easy.

"...so, he told you why then?" Gary mumbled sadly, Misty fought the urge to watch him closely, believe his words, so she slowly looked back at him, trying to uphold her authority.

"...that he's... _gay_?" Gary whispered and Misty's arms went lax, dropping togepi into her bare lap, below her shoulders.

"What did you say?" She gasped, eyes turning back up to Ash, seeing him in a new light.

"Well, you know—you said he _told you_ didn't he? He's really nervous about it, how uncomfortable girls make him...That's why he's so...perplexed with his rivals." Gary elaborated, unable to contain his laughter for much longer, he cleared his throat instead.

At the very moment he coughed, Ash turned back around to see that Gary had taken a seat beside Misty; who looked absolutely shell shocked—Ash inhaled, disturbed by her expression and Gary's snark one. HE turned away from Brendan and Ritchie and wandered back over to the duo.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Without thinking the words escaped Misty's lips. "Ash, is it true?" She gasped and he blinked at her.

"Is what true?"

Gary interjected quickly, not prepared to have his plans scaffold so soon. "You know, that _thing_ you told me about when we were kids that was really personal."

Ash looked at Gary, pure confusion carved into his features when he pat his lip trying to consider—suddenly, he recalled the instance when they found the pokeball that they broke in half, and he snapped his fingers. _That_ was a special moment! Maybe Gary was reminiscing over it because Ash finally won!

"Yes, it's true!" Ash hummed, brightly, feeling smarter than he was. Gary had to choke back his laughter once more—keeping a calm expression.

"See? I told you." Gary said, patting Misty on the shoulder comfortingly, an action that made Ash's stomach churn. He tried not to lash out, but his stoic face was all Misty needed for guidance of her own.

"It's okay, Ash. You could have told us! Brock and I will always be your friend, no matter what!" She cheered, though a deep part of her was wounded. Ash blinked at her, his happiness returning.

"Well...thanks, Mist, but what brought this-" Holding togepi once more with her left arm, she wrapped the right one around Ash and hugged him genuinely before stepping away, unsure of what else to say. He looked at her in shock and confusion with his mouth hung open. She wiped a stray tear from her eye that he didn't notice and then while sucking on her bottom lip she nodded and turned away, needing to catch some air.

"That was a weird way to react to the story about how we became rivals..." Ash hummed, feeling a bit warm from her touch still.

At that comment, Gary couldn't contain his laughter, and slapped his knee and held his stomach.

"Girls are weird sometimes!" He gasped with a belly full of laughter. Confused, Ash looked down to the clearly maniac pokemon battler, and knit his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I guess so." Ash hummed, though he was thinking that Misty wasn't the _only_ person who was acting weird. Maybe he would talk to Brock later. Hopefully _he_ wouldn't be as crazy!

 **Author's Note** :

I wanted to do something that was a little more lighthearted than the last few things I've written! Besides, I couldn't think of something with this theme that wasn't lighthearted. I also didn't really know -what- to right, so maybe I'll do like a pt 2. later on or something. For now, this is it. Hope you liked that Julie Togepi!


	8. Chapter 8: Not another high school story

**Pairing:** Ash/Misty, Brock/Lucy,

 **Rating:** T

 **Genre:** Humor/Mystery (romance?)

 **Summary:** In which Ash is having a normal day, until he wakes up in a world that is not his world, in a bed that is not his bed, and in a place that is not familiar. Ash goes to high school. AU, Storyboard.

 **XOXs**

What was this place?  
Ash pinched himself. Several times. Blinked more than that.

 _Where in the world was he?_

Instead of the natural, dirt roads surrounding him on a clear day in Pallet Town, he faced miles of concrete, dashed bumper to bumper with salt and pepper vehicles, and angry pedestrians. Trees were in potted plants, buildings look worn and rustic, rather than new and clean. People looked sour, _pokemon_ were plastered on posters and 'hand held consoles', but outside, no one talked about it.

When Ash tried, he got his face rammed into a locker.

 _That_ wasn't fun.

Now he was staring down the empty hallway of this place they called _school_. But it wasn't a pokemon school, no, no. It was an _academic_ school, a place for learning, sports, and apparently, making out in hallways inappropriately.

Ash, entranced by the audacity of the events unfolding before his eyes, inhaled sharp as he pushed his way through the mountain of people gathered together at this _school_ on a Monday morning.

That morning, his mom—the _lovely_ Delia-sweet and caring, and accepting of all of Ash's adventures, nearly rung his neck for even suggesting skipping _school_. She also told him he stayed up too late playing _those darn video games again_ , and was letting his imagination run wild!

Apparently, a _"senior in high school should not still be playing pokemon games and fantasizing of grand adventures. Now get your butt out of bed, mister, get a shower and get your butt on that bus!"_

He didn't have to be told twice—but now that he was here, he felt even more lost.

It was like a safari zone! The people _his age_ , some younger than him, were animals. They ran around, spit on the carpeted floors, made wolf noises to each other, called loudly for the friends around him, and some people, though, he had _no flipping clue_ who they were, even approached him.

How he managed to wake up, get dressed, find his way to a bus stop and _show_ up was beyond him; though, now that he was here, he was lost.

And confused.

 _Mostly the latter_.

He lurked around hallways, trying to find a familiar face—anyone by this point would be acceptable. If he saw Gary, he would pounce on him at first glance! This had to have been a joke! He distinctly remembered coming home from the Kalos league, and preparing to set out for Alola before slipping into his bed with pikachu sleeping at his side.

 _Pikachu_ , who was _literally_ the size of his palm, locked in a small cage with a green wheel to spin on. When Delia caught Ash trying to bring the _mouse_ to _school_ with him; he never thought he would breath the sweet air of life again.

Not that this air was sweet—it was actually kind of musty; sort of sweaty. Ash's nose curled when he arrived at a dead end of a hallway. He stared bitterly at a long row of lockers that laughed at him and ended at a locked door he had already tried to escape from. Sullenly, he turned back the way he came, to re-trace his foot steps.

 _Go to class!_ A teacher yelled at him on several occasions, but _where in mew's hell was class_?

Ash felt himself begin to sweat nervously. He must have been dreaming, maybe stuck in some realistic nightmare—oh, he knew he shouldn't have had that hot chocolate before bed! His mom always told him it would give him nightmares!

 _He pinched himself again_.

"Ash! There you are!" The voice was familiar, so _familiar._ His knees almost buckled when he turned to face the surprised expression of none other than Misty Waterflower, followed by her friends; Sakura and Kasey. He knew the two females behind her, but they hardly gave him the time of day when Misty approached him.

"Where were you this morning?" She asked, and Ash's mouth opened, then closed.

"Sleeping?" He offered, Misty scowled, and pushed forward once, nudging him down the hall.

"You over-slept again? If you keep doing that the coach is going to punish you—or worse, cut you! So get your act together." She scolded harshly, and Ash fumbled.

"Coach?" Ash echoed in a worried tone, and Misty suddenly halted recognizing his strange behavior.

"Are you hung over again?" She mocked, watching his eyes follow hers. She waved Kasey and Sakura off with a flick of her wrist, and Ash seemed absolutely flabbergasted.

" _Hung over_?" He echoed, what an absurd thing to say to him! Ash had never had a _drink_ his entire life!

"Oh my god, you are." She sighed, frustration building up over her features that Ash wasn't familiar with. Usually, when Misty was upset, she would hit him, _or something_.

"I'm not hung over. I've never had a drink in my life." He said confidently, but Misty's flat expression made him reconsider his words.

"Ash, c'mon. Don't lie to me. We've been friends since middle school." When she looked into his eyes, awaiting an answer, her mouth fell open on cue when she realized he was being honest. Her hand raced from the book bag she carried over one shoulder to his forehead, and she felt for a fever.

"Are you feeling okay?" She asked suddenly very concerned, catching him off guard.

"Ahh.." Ash started. "No, actually." He added, and then grabbed her wrist, and jerked her down the hallway after him. She gasped behind him when he pulled her past a row of lockers, earning worried looks from their classmates, when Ash barreled through the exit doors that lead around the back of the building and turned her around to face him.

"Ash—!" She gasped. "Class is starting." She grumbled, a blush over her cheeks at his apparent aggressive nature. Not only that, she tucked her hair behind her ear cutely, and Ash became even more worried.

He gaped, then shook his head. "That doesn't matter. What matters, is..." He paused, trying to think of a smart way to phrase his _issue_ without sounding crazy.

"What do you remember from last night?" He tried and Misty's eyes narrowed.

For a moment, she stammered. "Uhm, I went home after practice. Brock and I hung out for a little while and then I finished up my homework and went to bed?"

Ash shook his head, those details were unimportant. "Did anything else happen?"

"You called me for help on your science homework-" her face flushed, as if she intentionally didn't include more information. "Do you seriously not remember?"

"None of it! If I told you what I remembered, you would think I was crazy!" he exclaimed boldy, flailing his arms for emphasis.

Suddenly, she was very angry. Her jaw locked to one side and she licked her teeth under her lips. "Really? What was it?"

"You really want me to tell you."

"Yeah," She commented, biting her tongue. " _Please_." She hissed and Ash nodded.

"Okay. The last thing I remember, is just getting home from the Kalos region, talking with my mom, dropping off my pokemon at Professor Oak's, and then having a hot cup of chocolate before crawling into bed."

A moment passed, a bell rang, and Misty's right eyebrow twitched before she finally responded with a well-informed face-palm.

"You're screwing with me." She mumbled, and Ash shook his head violently.

"I'm not! Honestly. That's what I remember."

Misty inhaled, and clucked her tongue, shaking her head slightly. "You know, Ash, if you didn't-" She shook with rage, struggling to find the words. "I told you something very personal, and now you could have manned up and just fucking rejected me instead of doing this!"

When she shouted, the palms of her hand made contact with his chest, and she threw him backwards, causing him to stumble, and fall onto his butt. Even in whatever world this was, she packed a lot of muscle.

"I should have figured you would do this!" Misty growled. "Making a joke about everything!" Misty turned on her heels, her plaid skirt flipping with the wind when she shook him off and marched away, leaving a terribly confused Ash rubbing his chest and gawking at her behavior.

"What did I do!?" He called after her, but he could see her shoulders shake in more anger when she fled.

Needless to say; Ash didn't go to school.

Nope.

He spent the rest of the day trying to find some portal back to his world, jumping over the thousand of cars in the parking lot, stopping outside of his house in this strange city known shortly as "Kanto". His mom wasn't home, so he spent a large portion of his time rummaging through his belongings, trying to find some hint of the world he came from.

What he found instead, was a small, folded device that looked like an old-school pokedex that he flipped open, and when the screen brightened; his mouth fell ajar.

" _Welcome back, trainer Ash! Would you like to load your latest save?"_

Wherever he was—this was clearly hell. Or prison.

... _or both_.

 **Author's Note** :

I know I have some requests I still have to complete (quite a few from Legal-eagle that caught my attention, actually ahhaha), but I was in a rather silly mood; and this was born.

Think of goodhearted Ash.

Now throw him into a high school drama.

Someone stop me.

-gets shot-

NINT


	9. Chapter 9: So you want to be a cop

**Pairing:** Ash/Misty, Paul/Dawn, Gary/Leaf

 **Rating:** T (or M, I haven't decided fully yet) (For language, alcohol, and violence(?))

 **Genre:** Romance/mystery (humor?)

 **Summary:** AU. Ash finally turns twenty-one, which means he is finally old enough to join the police force! Storyboard.

 **Most likely story title:** So you want to be a cop?

 **XOXS**

Today was the day. _Today,_ Ash Ketchum was turning twenty-one.

The birds were singing outside of his window, his small mouse, Pikachu was running on his wheel inside of the cage on his dresser, his hair was combed back, and his pristine blues were traded for a pair of black slacks, and a white button up shirt, with light blue, vertical stripes. With an exuberant grin, he buttoned the cuffs, straightening his collar, and flicked his hand through his combed hair just a bit at the front, to keep a boyish spike.

After three years of desk work, playing coffee-gatherer and traffic cop, he was _finally_ being transferred to the Kanto City Police Department, title: Ash Ketchum, KCPD Junior Detective. Years at the police academy were finally paying off—all the hard work, sweat and tears finally came to a head when he received his promotion from Pallet Farms traffic cop, to detective.

To say he was excited would have been an understatement. He was ecstatic _,_ hardly able to contain his voluptuous joy with shaking hands and chattering teeth. Ash wanted to jump, but his mother was still asleep at a quarter to seven, and he _didn't_ want to disturb her. His mother probably had a huge day planned for him—a large party to celebrate his new position.

Blowing out a sigh, he chomped down on his bottom lip to contain a cry of joy. _It didn't get any better than this!_ Arms thrown up in every direction he stretched eagerly, imagining what his first day would look like. A traffic chase? Maybe a drug laundering scam—oh! Maybe a homicide!

Grabbing his tan, iron pressed jacket, he slipped it over his blouse, and under his white collar before dropping a few pellets into Pikachu's contain.

"Wish me luck on my first day, buddy!" he said in a sing-song tone before thudding out of his room, jingling his car keys.

 **XOXs**

Ash didn't drive a fancy vehicle, after paying for the academy out of pocket and working a part time job while attending the rigorous twelve hour days of the academy, his mother's living wage barely put food on the table. Instead, Ash opted for a _beater_. a small rust bucket of bolts and home-made repairs. He drove into his place of work with a loud, environmentally unclean and ill-maintained twenty year old truck he paid three hundred dollars for his senior year of high school.

Occasionally the drives door would stick, the lights would stay on, the battery would die—but for the most part, it was as reliable as any new vehicle, and Ash never felt bad if something happened to it. That one time someone backed into it in a parking lot, leaving a large dent in the passenger door? With a truck like this, the dent might have been an improvement.

In a parking lot full of well-waxed and buffed sports cars and SUV's, Ash might have paused in awe at the social class difference, if he hadn't already been accustomed to being _'that poor kid on the block'_. Even still, one car in particular, a gleaming, red 2014 Corvette caught the corner of his eye. Someone with _that_ vehicle had to have a lot of money—and, it seemed _very_ familiar.

Determined not to be late on his first day, he put the thought of his mind as he almost ran up the stairs to the front of the building, tugged open the large, metal doors, and took in the heavenly scent of paperwork and copy machines.

For the next ten years, this would be his home.

Happily, Ash kicked off from the front entrance, being sure to wave to the front desk clerks happily with and tilt of his head, greet his former-fellow desk jockeys—compliment the guy running after the coffee, until he approached the section of the department that would encase his entire life: The Criminal investigation wing.

Inhaling, Ash stepped through the open doors. _Really_ , there wasn't a _wing_ that separated the detectives from the regular cops—but it certainly felt like it. Stepping into the area with the perfectly lined cubical and desks felt like walking into a library for the first time. Everyone was hard at work with something, and here Ash was, _apart of it_.

Soon, he would be the greatest detective that Kanto ever saw!

"Oh," A snide, jarring voice pulled Ash from his thoughts, and he turned ever slowly at the owner of the voice.

"Well, it looks like Ashy-boy finally graduated from traffic cop after all. Congratulations." The young man hissed. The auburn haired police officer—no, detective looked as sarcastic as he sounded.

" _Gary_ , what in the world are _you_ doing here?"

"Well, unlike you, I _actually_ could afford to go to school to become a detective instead of playing cop for the last three years!" Gary mocked Ash, holding a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. One eyebrow was lowered in a temperamental gaze, and Ash could literally feel all the joy leave his body: replaced with instead, pure rage.

"What's wrong with going through the police academy! You're not better than me!" he shouted, jarring the attention from his co-workers.

Gary snorted. "Great first impression."

Ash's hands shook in front of him as Gary waved mockingly, and carried on with his morning. Even after three years, Gary could still grind every gear! He _knew_ that stupid red sports car looked familiar! Of course it had to belong to Gary fucking Oak! His perfect first day was _ruined_ now!

In a bit of a huff, Ash spun away from his co-workers concerned face, and stormed directly to the chief of police's office with his hands firmly against his sides. He didn't mean to dig his shoes into the hard wood floors, but if he didn't stomp something, he might have thrown Gary's coffee into his face. Just because he had money didn't make him any better.

 _Stupid jerk Gary._ Ash thought bitterly, looking down at the floor.

If possible, Ash would have pressed the reset button this entire day from that moment on. The very moment his eyes touched the floor, an equally enraged, red-haired vixen blew opened the doors of the chief's office, where Ash happened to be walking.

Had Ash been paying attention, he would have known to stop, or move, or jump—do the Macarena and book it; _instead_ , he kept moving forward, until his forehead collided with the angry woman. The jolt knocked the papers from her hand, caused whatever liquid she was carrying to splash back onto her white blouse, erupting in a searing, burning scream from the woman while Ash fell into a complete panic.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Ash shouted in a blur, trying to pat away the liquid—it only took him a few minutes to realize it was _hot coffee_ he split on her, and only a second longer to realize he had successfully gotten to second base in an attempt to prevent the substance from burning her.

Needless to say, he was _never_ going to forget _that_ right hook. For a girl, she could pack one hell of a punch.

 **XOXs**

Lucky for Ash, he had _one_ friend on the force already. Tracey Sketchit, the Kanto Police sketch artist. The older man pulled Ash out of the mess and into the infirmary before Ash was literally beaten into a pulp.

"Man, you really know how to start the day, don't you?" Tracey said in a gentle, mock tone while pressing the ice pack to Ash's eyebrow. Ash winced, reeling backwards to hold the pack against his eye and grunt.

"Good to know you haven't changed since high school." Tracey added again in a tone so mocking Ash could have throttled him.

"Well, at least I can say I was a detective for a good ten minutes before screwing it up." Ash said with a sigh so long, even Tracey felt bad for him.

"oh, cheer up, something bad happens to all of us on our first day." He tried, but Ash deadpanned at him. Lips were a flat line when he spoke next, in a quiet frustrated, possibly mortified, tone.

"I took her shirt off—or at least tried to."

"You were trying to prevent her form getting burned." Tracey offered, fighting the urge to chuckle. "You had her best interest at heart."

Ash blinked through a swelling eye and then sighed. "I don't think she saw it that way—and I haven't even seen the Chief of Police yet."

"Oh, you haven't met Jenny yet?" Tracey asked with a bold smile. "She's great! I'm sure if you explain what happened she will forgive you... just... try not to screw up again." Tracey warned him.

After the nurse placed a butterfly bandage over his eye to reduce the swelling and sent him on his way, he bid a short farewell to Tracey, and went to face his maker with the police chief.

 **XOXs**

When he approached the office, he didn't have to knock before a reply came.

"Come in, Ash." Jenny's strong, booming voice answered. Ash swallowed against the nervous lump in the back of his throat before stepping into the small office, and clicking the door shut.

She started at him with cold, blue eyes for a time before gesturing him to sit. Ash couldn't speak, somehow in the last ten seconds, he had forgotten how.

"Care to explain what happened?" The chief asked while resting her chin on her intertwined fingers. Ash gulped, and fidgeted back and forth in the chair he was in.

"I...was distracted when I was walking and bumped into that woman..." Ash held his forehead, knowing himself, how stupid he sounded. "I was trying to stop her from being burned by the coffee I accidentally caused her to splash." Ash explained, unable to make eye contact.

 _How humiliating._

A long pause surfaced before the sound of the chief's laughter broke the tension. Ash looked up slowly, a bit hopeful with a nervous smile on his own lips while she bellowed, holding her gut and leaning back in her chair with a loud creak.

She laughed for a time, though Ash never felt safe enough to join in. In the end, she sniffed, and wiped the corners of her eye.

"Oh man, that will be one for the books for sure." She said between chuckles, trying to catch her breath. Meanwhile, Ash tried to remain stoic.

Since he didn't answer right away Jenny licked her lips and nodded very, very slowly. "We'll let it slide this time because no one was injured and it's your first day." She muttered, but then the humor left her eyes, replaced with that same, cold gaze.

"Do it again, however, and you'll be out of here before you can beg for mercy." Her tone was low, venomous. Ash nodded quickly and popped out of his seat.

"Otherwise," She rose with him, her mood more pleasant than it had been. "It's nice to meet you—I hope you enjoy your time here. Your cases have been placed on your desk which is located at the center of the detective unit. We will meet after lunch to discuss who your partner will be. Until then, try _not_ to help anyone else, okay?" She said in a mock-sweet tone and a firm handshake.

Ash twitched as he nodded, and then left the room as quickly as possible, though carefully. He didn't want to run into _another_ person!

Whoever the red haired woman was from earlier, she was no-where to be seen in the detective unit, which allowed Ash a moment to breath a sigh of relief as he made his way to his desk. He didn't bring anything with him except for a picture of him and his mom, but after seeing the group of police officers glaring at him behind a snickering Gary, he almost thought otherwise to place the picture.

...No way! Ash wouldn't be bullied. He removed the picture from his jacket pocket, and placed it beside his monitor before pawing at the folders that had been placed in his box.

Quite a few cases were already there—and while he _tried_ to ignore the whispers around him, he flipped through each case.

The Kanto City Police Department covered all ten areas of the city which were broken up my area. Pallet, Pewter, Viridian, Cerulean, Celadon, Saffron, Lavender, Vermillion, Fuschia, and the Cinibar rivers. Opposed to the small time police work filed at Pallet Farms Police Department where Ash was transferred from, he was now working for the big leagues; and with it, came the ability to maintain order in all areas of the city; not just the traffic in Pallet. Technically, they were all employed by the Kanto City Police Department, but sub-categories of the division were devised to keep better records of each city area. Ash was fortunate enough to stay close to home before—but the main branch of the department was placed in the Saffron area, which meant Ash spent an easy forty-five minute commute to work.

His eyebrows scrunched up, hearing a girls giggle from where Gary watched him with a group of ill-fitted supports, and he finally looked up.

"Do you mind?" Ash snapped, glowering at them. Gary snorted and wagged his hand. The old-rival approached with a swagger in his hips.

"That was an impressive display of detective skills earlier, Ash. Way to really pay attention on your first day." Gary mocked, though before Ash could get a word in edge wise a strong hand was placed on Gary's shoulder.

"That's some tough words coming from a new detective himself, Oak." The older man with onyx eyes and lavender hair groaned. His mouth was turned into an almost permanent frown when he forced Gary to back away from Ash's desk.

"Just because you were able to skip the academy with some prestigious Criminal Justice bullshit, doesn't mean you're exempt from the same rules as the rest of us." The man pointed to Gary's desk, which Ash realized was just as empty as his own. "Now get started on your cases and set an example—Don't act like a _girl_."

The crowd that had gathered around Gary quickly dispersed, and the auburn haired detective nodded. His ego was sorely deflated when he walked around the purple-haired man, and zig-zaged directly to his desk.

Still, Gary pointed at Ash to say "I'm watching you" and then started to shuffle through his papers before Ash looked up at the angry officer.

"Hey, thanks." Ash grinned, but then the angry eyes turned on him.

"Don't thank me! That was a horrible display of Police etiquette this morning, Ketchum! Don't let me catch you out of line again." He warned and in the short encounter before he stormed off to his own cubical, Ash could see the title of his name-tag. "Paul Shinji."

The lead detective. Who sat closer to Gary than Ash. For once, Ash was praising the gods—he would _hate_ to get on that man's bad side.

 **XOXs**

With the excitement of the morning over, Ash had already opened the case files, started his reports, and prepared lists of areas to 'check into' to turn into the lead detective. Thanks to his time in traffic, he was used to a _certain_ amount of desk work—but nothing to excuse the fact that he was _already_ bored to tears. He hoped that being a detective would be a little more exciting than _this._

Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms behind his head, and looked up at the ceiling with pursed lips.

 _Dad always made this sound so much more exciting_. Ash thought in a bitter tone, before the clicks of heels funneled into the division. Snapped from his stupor, his eyes fell onto the doors he cheerfully walked through that morning, to be met with Jenny's blue hair, and the sparky-red hair of _death_ right beside her. She wore a black t-shirt, and black slacks; as opposed to what she _probably_ looked like this morning, she didn't look the _slightest_ bit professional.

She did, however, look extremely pissed off, and Ash couldn't beg the question why.

 _Please don't be a detective. Plllllease don't be a detective._ He chanted while Jenny called for all working detectives to meet her in her office right away. Ash, Gary, and Paul, apparently the only working detectives in the unit, followed her stubbornly, though Ash kept to the back in fear of being close to the fiery redhead.

 _Please. Don't. be. a. Detective._ Ash thought one last time before entering the office for the second time that day. He took a place beside Gary, who was beside Paul—who stood beside _her_. Nervously, he _wanted_ to hide his face in shame— _flee,_ perhaps, but he was rooted the moment Jenny started speaking.

"So, we have two new, junior detectives joining our precinct today, their names are Gary Oak, and Ash Ketchum. The two of you should already know Mr. Oak; his father has been the lead forensic analysis for the last thirty years and has helped solved thousands of cases. On the other hand, it seems _you two,_ " She gestured to Ash, and then the red head. "became quite acquainted this morning." her tone was almost humorous to the point that Ash could feel the rage boiling two persons down.

 _Oh God, she_ is _a detective_. Was the only thought Ash could manage.

Her face was turned down into a hostile frown; and the only other thought Ash could think was: _Please let Shinji be my partner, please let Shinji be my partner._ He would take crazy, uptight man any day over the girl he technically, _almost_ man handled that morning. She was already probably deciding on ways to kill him. Writing up a list.

"Ketchum, Oak, these are the two leading detectives of this department; Paul Shinji, and Misty Waterflower." The chief's voice seemed to soften slightly. "I've already assigned you both to your new partners—so _regardless_ of what's happened today. Play nicely." her eyes were fixated on Misty, and Ash could feel the hole in his chest deepening.

"Detective Waterflower, you will be in charge of Junior Detective Ash Ketchum, and Detective Shinji, you will be in charge of Junior Detective Gary Oak."

Gary and Ash groaned in unison, but it was Misty who flipped the chair in front of her and then stormed out of the office, slamming the wooden door behind her.

"Don't mind her." The chief expressed... "She can have a bit of a temper." Jenny added with a cluck of her tongue, "She's a great superior to learn from regardless."

"Well, since they clearly seem to have issues—couldn't we say, change partners?" Gary inquired in an unprofessional tone, and for once, Ash didn't disagree with him.

However, Jenny slammed her hand on the desk. "The decision has already been made! You all will _learn_ to get a long." Jenny bellowed dangerously, and the two 'newbies' shrunk back with a "yes ma'am!" While Paul could only scoff, slightly amused.

"Is that all?"

"Hmm." Jenny sighed. "Take the day to familiarize your partner with the station, tomorrow you can start on introducing them to field work."

Ash could feel the chill run down his spine.

 _Great_. If he was lucky, this _Misty Waterflower_ would shoot him in the back while he wasn't looking.

 **XOXs**

While Gary and Paul stalked off to visit the several different sectors of the police department the moment they exited the chief's office, Ash was tasked with the unnerving task of speaking with the righteous fury of his new partner. Man, he hoped for a change, and _soon_.

She sat at her desk, which was cluttered with papers; notes, reports, and sticky notes. To the far side of her desk was a picture that was covered in dust of the detective and three older women with odd colors of hair.

"Is this your family?" Ash asked, grabbing the picture which was immediately swat from his hands. Her speed was untimely and accurate, and Ash shrunk backwards.

"Why?" She snapped hoarsely. "Do you want to fondle them, too?" She growled, slamming her folder closed. Clearly, she was _not_ going to get any work done.

"Hey!" He snapped in his defense, enraged. "Don't throw that word around! I was trying to stop you from burning yourself."

"Well if you had opened your eyes in the first place, we wouldn't have been in that predicament!" She argued, standing up to face him. He could see the weapon holstered at her hip and he returned his gaze to her eyes—which were a brilliant display of sea-green; uncommon in the region.

Taken aback, he blinked a few times. "S-sorry."

Jarred, she reeled away from him. "Whatever."

Outside of the anger; she might have been _pretty_. If she stopped scowling all the time. "Hey, wait a minute! You're supposed to show me around the police station!" Ash shouted after her, taking off into a jog to keep beside the heel-toting woman.

"Then you better keep up." She sneered unpleasantly in return.

 **XOXs**

When Ash returned home, he was beat. More tired in an eight hour shift than the twelve hour days he spent in the academy. Whoever this Misty Waterflower was, she was _exhausting_.

"Ugh." He groaned, pushing open the front door to his house, which was met with streamers, and applause from within. Confetti mixed with the beaming faces of his long-time friends, May, Brock, and his mother, Delia.

"Congratulations, Ash!" They shouted eagerly, raising Ash's spirits.

"You guys!" He bellowed, extending his hands to his side. "You _did_ remember! Thank you!" his voice was a bit more strained than he had wanted it to be, and he sounded a bit more sad than expected, so they all looked on at him in worry.

"How was your first day?" His mom asked, grabbing him into a hug and leading him onto the back porch where they sat around a small fire she had prepared. "Did you catch any bad guys? Your father caught two on his first day." She sang happily while passing around a controlled amount of alcohol.

Ash didn't say thank you when he popped open the glass bottle and sighed.

"I have the most _infuriating_ partner." Ash didn't hesitate to complain, he was always very open about his emotions, and so his friends leaned in to eagerly.

"Do tell." Brock grinned, thanking Delia for a beer while Ash grimaced.

"She basically gave me all of the worst jobs, yelled at me the whole day, and put me in terrible situations since I accidentally spilled coffee on her this morning."

"That seems a little childish." May offered her condolences while swiping her long brunette hair behind her ear.  
"You're telling me!" Ash gasped, throwing his arms up. "To make it worse, _Gary_ works there, too. He's the other Junior Detective I told you guys about."

"Well, don't worry Ash, things have to get better—it's only your first day." Brock managed with a soft smile. Ash could only feel his eyebrow twitch in return, recalling his mother's words about his father's time on the police force.

"Mom, did dad have a horrible partner?"

"Don't you think it's too early to be saying that she's _horrible_?" She scolded flatly, then her normal cheer returned. "But, no, your father enjoyed all of his partners. Some of them were quite different, but they were all _good!_ "

The revelation only forced Ash to sigh while placing the cold bottle against his forehead. He _never_ was as lucky as his father.

 **Author's Note:**

I imagine that by 2016, these have been done a million times over. A police story with the pokemon characters. T.T But I just couldn't help myself. -leaves-

This is an idea I've been toying with for a really, really long time. Primarily because some of my favorite television shows are police/detective related television shows. (Dexter and Psych are my personal favorites. Someone stop me!)

Once upon a time ago, I think most people who know me at some personal level know this, one of my favorite pokemon fanfics in the world was one from late 2007 that stared Ash and Misty as detectives on the police force. It was -never- finished to my knowledge (unfortunately, -cries-), and while I can't remember the name of it anymore, I've always been inspired by it. (I'm afraid to track it down in fear of it not being as great as I remember it, ya know?)

Like, what if they -were- detectives? I've been throwing this idea around _for so long_ I finally decided to write something like a first chapter, so that way, if I ever feel obligated once my other stories are complete, I can always come back to this.

I tried to keep him in character by keep the "nothing is every easy with Ash Ketchum" motif, and used the situation to set up some of the character relations that might effect the story. -throws up arms- I don't know what I'm doing anymore.

I also know there are technically like 12 different criminal investigation departments, but for better story telling, I think I'm just going to mesh them all into an over all 'detective' class. So, for example, the same person who looks at homicide cases, will also look at drug laundering. Stuff like that! Hope that doesn't bother anyone.

Also, while I -know- pikachu is a mouse, I'm more tempted to make him some type of dog instead, because I can see Au version Ash taking pikachu for walks with him and being a complete dog-person.

But that's just me.


	10. Chapter 10: Pretending

**Pairing:** Ash/Misty, (sort of in a brOTP fashion)

 **Rated:** T

 **Genre:** Humor/Romance

 **Summary:** In which Misty pretends to be Ash's girlfriend. One-Shot

 **Requested by:** Mrs. Nose

 **Warning** : One sided amourshipping; not looking to cause a war, just looking to write a fun, little story.

 **XOXs**

When Ash paced back and forth through his unchanged room since he was ten, he gnawed his finger nails, muttered below his breath, and swore only one concept of reality: _freaking_ puberty.

That's right, the dreaded 'p' word he was trying to avoid since he started at fourteen with that dreaded voice-crack in Sinnoh. Life was just a complete spiral after that—minor tasks required less thought because _thoughts_ betrayed him!

 _Why that's a nice dress, but why does it have to interrupt training_? He recalled the memory while pinching the bridge of his nose. He also recalled looking away, at anyone other than the scantly clad female standing beside him—the ground was nice. But underneath everything, ever small, white lie, oblivious nature, awestruck gaze and idiocy, Ash was _still male_. He had _feelings_ and _reactions:_ any normal sixteen year old would!

However, Ash was an expert, after _years_ of witnessing Brock fawn after every single woman they came into contact with, Ash _knew_ how to handle himself by doing exactly what Brock did—but the complete opposite.

 _Oh, you're flirting with me? You know what sounds like a great idea, a pokemon battle; because pokemon._ Ash wasn't _interested_ in females. At the thought, his gut lurched, and he tore apart his scrawled list of contacts once more in desperation; flicking through names. _May, Kasey, Dawn, Ursula, Sakura, Bianca, Iris:_ each one crossed out, each one an even less likely chance of ever returning his calls.

So, correction-he sighed heavily—Ash _liked_ girls, he just didn't want to _date_ one. For a very, _very_ long time. He had his goals to think about, his life to focus on; his battles and adventures—and for heavens sake he was only sixteen, he didn't want a steady girlfriend! His mom tried that with his dead-beat, pokemon training, father, and wound up pregnant at seventeen and then his dad _poofed_. Ash didn't want _that_ for his life.

 _Ever._

His face scrunched up and he slumped onto his bed—the problem was; one person, in particular, was very... _assertive_.

It wasn't that he didn't like _her—it_ was just that...he didn't hold any _special_ feelings for _her._ In fact, Ash could hold up with one hand how many females that he had special, albeit platonic, feelings for with one finger: _his mother_.

So now faced with a dilemma, in the same fashion he might have done when he was ten—he lied to get out of a situation; only to lie more, which only resulted in _more lies_. Ash didn't _enjoy_ lying, it just _happened_...

Pikachu stared at his frantic trainer from across the bedroom, sitting on his perch at the base of his trainer's window, soaking up the sunlight when Ash slumped onto his bed, fell backwards, and let out a strangled noise before slapping his face. The pokemon's ears fell backwards when Ash rolled over to check his list again—he _could_ call one of the crazy ones; but there was _no way_ they would agree to it! Everyone else already told him no! He was almost out of options and if he asked someone that _actually_ liked him; he would only be in a _worse_ situation.

He needed someone untouchable, someone who regardless of the situation wouldn't bat an eye, wouldn't break her facade under the scrutiny of his mother, most recent travel companions or the media—he needed someone strong, and loyal, and for god's sake;

 _Someone who would lie to his mother_.

 **XOXs**

Ash's predicament started a year ago, when he let a floundering crush turn into a full blown confession at the end of the Kalos league—that's right, Serena confessed. She not only confessed; she did so in front of Clemont and Bonnie, who were _super_ supportive, and convinced that Ash returned the feelings for the dark blonde.

Not only were they _wrong_ , they sunk all three of his battle ships at once, he was doomed the moment he answered.

 _"I don't know what that means."_ Ash blurted out in reply to: _I really like you Ash, more than a friend._

To which Bonnie stepped in with a quaint: _She's trying to say that she loves you, Ash._

But oh, no. Ash couldn't just let his obliviousness slip for one second and deny his _good_ friend then and there—she would be devastated, her eyes were already watering and he hated seeing her cry. So, he swallowed, and kept up his defenses.

" _...I love you guys, too_." He replied doltishly, with a stretching, nervous grin. But then—oh no, things couldn't just have stopped there; she _kissed him_. _On the lips._ Full on, mashing of faces, knocking over Bonnie into her brother, and in the process head-butting Ash; but, she kissed him. Not well, but, it was a kiss. Not that he was an expert on _kissing or anything_.

So then, in his _best_ defense, his _only_ lasting defense, he uttered the four words that sealed his fate: _"I have a girlfriend"_ and his life was over.

Perhaps it was the melodramatic teenage hormones doing their holy work, but Ash felt that in many ways, he sabotaged his entire life _with four words_. The news spread like wildfire, he had _no idea_ that he was so popular on the news until Serena shrieked loudly in the middle of the stadium—and even though he was runner-up, apparently he was as popular as the league champion.

Worse; his friends all heard the news before he had the chance to tell them—his one, true ally, Brock, was not speaking with him because Ash 'betrayed their bro-code of romance': which was simply that Ash did not tell Brock that he was _dating_ someone. Apparently, no one realized it was a lie, a cold, uncouth lie—well, no one but Serena. It wasn't that he _wanted_ to lie, even; he _liked_ Serena, he just didn't _like, like_ her. He didn't want to burn a bridge with her; she was still a very important friend to him.

"Oh god, Pikachu." Ash groaned into his hat.

The teenager locked himself into his room on the facade of being sick after an hour long spill from his mother that he never told her anything and that she _demands_ to meet this _girlfriend_ of his. So, what started as an innocent lie to get out of a hurtful truth, branched into an entangled group of buried roots and agony. Now his friends and family had to pour gasoline on the dying tree, and Ash would burn in flames, just like his inability to reject honestly.

It wasn't _too late_ though, he could still tell the truth; but now, the truth was not only detrimental, it was _worse_ than it was before. Not only was Ash unwilling to admit to Serena he wasn't _ready for a committed relationship_ , but that he preferred to lie to her about a fake relationship than have anythingto do with her; at least, that's what he was expecting her to think. Followed by a slap, or a tearful scream, or worse—public humiliation. Right now, he just wanted to crawl into a hole and bury himself; he was already halfway in his own grave, after all.

"...Pika?" The mouse crooned, sitting in his trainers lap while Ash sat forward, thinking of the adventures he was supposed to go on in Alola—a journey that was now going to be shrouded by _this._

"Should I tell the truth?" Ash asked his long time companion.

The mouse nodded, eyes glaring. "Pika, chu, pi." The mouse reiterated, basically reciting to Ash the golden rule: always be honest. If pikachu had stopped there, Ash might have moved on, admit his failures, taken his lumps early; but then the mouse continued.

"...ka.. pika pikachu pi, piikachu..." The mouse added, gesturing with his paws while Ash's face paled.

 _Of course_ , the pokemon told him, _there's the problem of your mother; she'll kill you, or worse, stop feeding us._

It was at that moment Ash turned to his list, and held up the last number he was going to call that night—pray for an easy conversation; and hope for the best. His other option included Gary; and he wasn't sure 'coming out' was going to be a lie that he could manage.

Ash couldn't tell his mother he was lying.

Damn it, he was going to call the _last_ person he wanted to ask _this_ favor from: Misty Waterflower, the Cerulean City gym leader.

 **XOXs**

"...Hi Misty." Ash's voice cracked on the other line of her mobile phone while she directed a man holding a large painting of a gyarados—she was renovating the gym's aquatic center with facts about pokemon.

The red head licked her lips. "What? Are you going through puberty again or something? Is there a reason your voice is cracking?" Misty snorted, only causing Ash to groan, clear his throat, and try again.

"No, I'm through that—maybe...hopefully. Ergh, can we not talk about that?"

"Why, it's normal; everyone goes through it Ashy-boy."

"Did you really adopt that from Gary, it's been what, two years since we last talked and _that's_ what you're choosing to call me?"

"Damn right; mostly because you're on my bad list right now, Mr. _pokemon master_." She mocked him in such a tone, she could feel the wince, and a smug smirk curled over her lips.

"What did I do now?"

"You just said it— _two years,_ Ash. You haven't called in two years. Worst of all, you call Brock!"

"How did _you_ know that I call Brock?"

"Because Brock calls me!" Misty shrieked, stomping her foot hard against the tiled floors and alerting the movers in the gym.

A pause. "...oh."

"Yeah: _oh_!" Misty yelled, suddenly very flustered.

"...Yeah, okay. I'm sorry. I just get.. busy. You know, leagues, and travel, and plus the time changes in Unova and Kalos compared to Kanto were just ridiculous." Ash offered smoothly to rectify the problem. Misty smacked her lips unhappily in reply, kicked her shoe against the fabric of the wall, and then exhaled.

"Alright, I'll let it pass only because you took runner-up," Misty paused. "Sorry about that, you almost won, too..." She started, but then Ash interrupted her.

"You watched the match?"

"Well, I recorded it since it aired at like 3:00am Kanto time, but yeah. I watched it." She confirmed, hearing a huff of excitement from Ash that she hadn't heard in years.

"What did you think of greninja!? He's pretty awesome, right?" His voice, which had been so anxious only moments ago was laced with unbridled excitement that forced a chuckle from her lips.

Happily, Misty said: "Yeah! Considering he was the first water pokemon you've ever evolved, I was really impressed!"

"Thanks Misty, coming from you, that means a lot." Ash confirmed happily, eliciting an awkward silence between the two of them that was quickly managed by Ash coughing into his house phone. He held the phone to his ear, listened carefully for any one else on the line, and then hunched over before exhaling.

"I...I sort of need a huge favor."

"...What kind of favor?" Misty muttered after a few moments to register the change in his voice. _How serious_ he had become.

"Well, I sort of caught myself in a pickle here, Mist..." _Ah, the nickname, he could never just call to say hello._.. Misty thought tiredly, taking a position of immediate defense—she didn't need him to finish, she _knew_ what this was about.

"You don't really have a girlfriend, do you?"

"...No." Ash admit after a time, receiving a very loud, very agitated exhale from the redhead.

"Ash, just go tell your mother and for sanity's sake, tell Brock, he's been whining about it for the last few days; do you know how long it took me to get him off the phone this morning? He called me eighteen times!" She hissed, hearing Ash groan on his end of the conversation.

"I—I know I should tell the truth, but I _can't_!" He whined and Misty inhaled.

"Why can't you?" Misty snarled. "Tell them you're more focused on your training; your mom won't hate you! Yes, she'll be mad, but she'll get over it—it's not the _stupidest_ thing you've ever done." Suddenly, Misty paused for thought while climbing the stadium steps to over look her crystal clear pool.

"...Wait." She paused thoughtfully, mouth opening. "Why _did you_ lie to your mom, anyways?" Misty suddenly questioned, and could hear Ash fumble anxiously.

"...it... wasn't my mom I lied to at first." Ash addressed, clearing his throat once more. Before Misty could nudge the reasoning out of him, he spilled like a tea set during an earth quake. "There is this girl that I was traveling with that got well, _you know_ , and I couldn't let her down so I...might have...ehem... well, I _stretched the trut_ h."

Misty tripped, dropped her phone, and slammed her head on the footing of the stairs, alarming Ash who piped in with several muffled _are you okay_?s while Misty gathered herself, and her thoughts; this was such an Ash thing to do. She groaned loudly, collecting her phone from the ground and dusting off her knees while she approached her bed room.

" _Stretched the truth_? Ash, you haven't even _looked_ at a girl since we were ten!" Misty bellowed loudly, speaking of the girl they met early on in their journey that ended up being a pretentious bitch at a pretentious pokemon school. "Why would you _lie_?!"

"Because-! I don't know if I _don't_ like her...besides, she-s _he-she_ kissed me and I panicked!"

"She kissed you?!" Misty echoed loudly with a shriek that startled Daisy who was sitting in the study with her nose glued to a smutty romance novel—suddenly, Misty's conversation was much _more_ interesting, and she lowered her book to eavesdrop, and tucked lower into the couch so that Misty wouldn't notice she was there.

"Ash, you can't _lie_ to girls! You should have been honest with her, even after that! What is wrong with you!?"

"But you don't understand, Misty; she has like these really sensitive blue eyes and Clemont and Bonnie were there, and I couldn't; I panicked and said the first thing that came to my mind."

"And it was that you _already_ had a _girlfriend!?_ " Misty bellowed, rattling the windows and possibly breaking Ash's ear drum.

"Yes! I know. I messed up, that's why you have to help me! I already called everyone else that I _could_ call—you're my last hope; _please_!"

"Oh, so not only are you calling me for a favor after ignoring me for two years, I'm _also_ your last source of advice!" She inhaled, ready to fire off a line of well-crafted Misty insults, but Ash, knowing her anger, quickly cut her off.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Ash blurted, slapping his hand over his mouth seconds later to catch his breath; the sudden question caused a minor defect in the proper programming of Misty's brain, and she twitched.

"... _what did you say?"_ She breathed into the phone, her voice mixed somewhere between shock and pure rage. At this point, Daisy had almost fallen off the couch in juicy gossip, and bit down hard on her lip to keep herself contained so she could listen.

A pause. A fumble. A cough. Then,

"Not my _real_ girlfriend." he explained, "I just need someone to visit me, _pretend_ to be my girlfriend, so Serena is let off easy, and my mom doesn't turn me into tomorrows lunch." Ash tried to rectify, but the news turned Misty's well-earned shock and blush into a stubborn, growing headache.

" _I'm_ going to kill you if _she_ doesn't." Misty threatened under her breath, though luckily a jarred Ash didn't hear it.

"I won't." she replied stoically, rather than her last statement. There was no way she could do that; while Misty was a lot of things; she had a conscious! It wasn't in her nature to lie—especially not to lie for someone else's sake!

"Why!" Ash gasped. "Everyone else said no, too! I need you, Mist! Besides, I already told everyone it was you!"

"Because it's wrong! And that's not my problem!" Misty bellowed once more, suddenly thrice as angry as she once was. "And how _dare you_ ask _me_ that question _Ash Bartholomew Ketchum!"_

"Calm down, Mist! This is why I asked you last, I swear! I need this huge favor from you; _one time_ , _please_. That's all I'm asking; you only need to show up for a dinner, meet Serena, then you can go on your way! Please, _please_!" Ash groaned, borderline begging; actually, who was he kidding, he _was_ begging at this point, given the fact that she hadn't hung up on him yet unlike the rest of his female companions, he still thought that he had a chance.

"I can't believe you would—" "I know someone who can get you a froakie!" Ash gasped, using his last resource—bribery. When the sound of boiling rage quieted to a light simmer, he knew he had her roped, and leaned in desperately the sweeten the deal.

 _"And_ I know how busy the gym is, so I will work free of charge for two full weeks before I go to Alola; just help me out here."

Misty cocked one hip to the side, and folded her arms, "Make it sweeter." She demanded and Ash secretly arm-pumped in victory, not that she could see him; but she knew him well enough.

"I will personally introduce you to Professor Sycamore and get you a free round trip to Lumoise City where you can stay at the fanciest hotel in the city free of charge?" He muttered, knowing how sensitive she was to the idea of Kalos culture. She cocked her jaw, then nodded.

"Alright... it's a deal." Misty mumbled in return, nodded her head. Ash threw up his arms believing he won the good fight and was about to poor out his sincere appreciation when Misty licked her lips. "But you are forever in my debt, Ash. When I need a favor, your ass better come running."

Now, had that sentence come from any one of this other friends, Ash wouldn't have been so terrified; but given the situation; whatever Misty could throw at him, he would happily take before admitting to a bold-faced lie and destroying the friendships he built over the last year.

"Done!" Ash exclaimed, and then she hung up without another word. From the couch, Daisy sprung forward, eyes glowing when Misty glared at her.

"Not a word." She warned her older sister before her mouth opened. "Not. A. Word." Misty rephrased sternly, storming away.

Misty knew this was a terrible idea the very moment Daisy was on board for it.

 **XOXs**

Misty didn't dress up; she didn't comb her hair, she _barely_ changed out of her Gym Leader uniform before getting onto the train. She had clear tan lines from hours spent cleaning the outside pool in a bikini that glared pale white in contrast to her slightly tanned features, and yellow tank top. Over the top, she wore a red vest. She sport a pair of traditional jean short-shorts, but long forgo the red suspenders and mid-diff revealing shirts. She did, however, still wear her hair up in the classic side pony-tail; only her hair was much longer, and nearly touched her shoulder when she extended her hand to knock on the door.

The things she did to help her friends. She was either a saint; or _really_ stupid.

She smacked her lips, crossed her feet at the ankles, and even though she was seventeen and female; her approach was still _masculine_. Years running a gym, and constantly being berated by her sisters to be more 'girly' made her act in much of the opposite direction. It wasn't that she didn't _like_ girly things, they just weren't comfortable, or rational for traveling. Besides; if the time came to flee, she wanted to be as comfortable as possible.

So, when the door opened to reveal a very preppy looking blonde female, sporting an adorable pink frock dress, a red, draped vest, and black stockings, her mouth gaped. Misty didn't need to guess; she _knew_ this was Serena by the way her nose wrinkled when she saw Misty, forming the same immediate judgment that the redhead made the very moment they laid eyes on one another; they were polar opposites.

"You must be Serena." Misty choked out, forcing a smile.

"And _you_ must be Ash's... _friend_." Misty's head cranked at the tone of her voice—sweet, and so betrayed; she was the one that they would need to sell the situation to, otherwise, Ash _and_ Misty were going to be in Delia's hot-seat, and that wasn't a pleasant place to sit for anyone.

"His _girlfriend._ " Misty corrected awkwardly, extending her hand to shake Serena's. "It's nice to meet you, he...has mentioned so much about you."

"Really? Because I don't remember him calling you when we were traveling." She said quickly, in a way that told Misty that she knew that Ash was lying, and was either at a point where she wanted the truth, or was in complete denial.

Misty swallowed, thinking fast.

"Emails are... a wonderful creation." She lied, quickly bolting past Serena and into the familiar house where she mentally begged to see someone else, _anyone_ else besides the girl Ash was directly lying to.

Misty wasn't a bad person; she felt guilty just looking at Serena. Was Ash _blind_ or something? Serena was gorgeous, and her mannerisms were exquisite! If Misty was in Serena's situation, she might have attacked the alleged girlfriend, not ooze genuine sweetness.

She stepped into the kitchen to see Ash and his long-time companion hovering over Delia's shoulder, watching her mix what Misty smelled was brownies. Her stomach yearned for the sweet taste—that she reminded herself once more that if things went badly, she would be forever denied their chocolate goodness, and so Misty swallowed loudly before clearing her throat to earn the duos attention.

Ash turned nervously, but pikachu sprung from Ash's arms and into Misty's. It was as if looking at her made the _fake_ situation _too real,_ too awkward, and Ash tugged on his collar.

"Pikachu pi!" The pokemon cried his way of saying her name, and she scratched his ears happily.

"I missed you, too pikachu." She oozed while Ash winced; unsure of how to act. Typically, he would greet her the same way he greets all of his old friends; but now, feigning a _relationship_ were they supposed to hug? His eyes flashed to Serena, who seemed to watch skeptically of the events unfolding, and Ash sprung to Misty's side, but didn't touch her.

"You made it." Ash managed, sounding strangled. Awkwardly, he pat her shoulder with a borderline trembling hand that Misty would have mocked, had they not been under a personal 'facade'.

"How was your trip?" his voice was robotic, and Delia's cold gaze fell on Misty seconds later when she kicked Ash hard in the shin so he would spring forward and grab her. His arms lurched around the redheads shoulders and his eyes bugged wide.

"It's good to see you, too, Ash! I missed you!" She exclaimed happily, squeezing him with one arm while pikachu squeaked between them. Once his ear was at the mercy of her lips, she breathed.

"Act natural, stupid." Misty groaned, forcing Ash to jolt away from her, but then forcefully relax. He cranked a smile, though inwardly swore at her for kicking him while Misty formally greeted Delia with a traditional, motherly hug.

 _When_ did Misty reach _hug_ status with his mother? Ash would have asked had Serena not stepped to his side.

"I guess you weren't lying. I'm sorry." Serena admit, lowering her hands to her thighs, an action that made Ash feel forever three times more guilty.

Suddenly, lying didn't seem so great anymore when he saw the sad expression on her face. "...yeah." He said unconvincingly, and Serena shot him a look before Delia grabbed them both, and _gently_ shoved them to the living room.

"Come, sit! I'll have snacks ready soon!" Delia gushed, pushing Ash, Misty, and Serena into the living room where Bonnie and Clemont already were. Bonnie sprung to life immediately, taking a verbal and physical dislike to the redhead.

"So _you're_ the girlfriend, huh?" Bonnie hissed, folding her arms skeptically. "You don't look very special to me." She eyed Misty up and down, earning a very agitated eyebrow twitch.

Then, "What do you have that Serena doesn't?"

"Do you want to know why I don't have younger siblings?" Misty cracked coldly, eyes glaring dangerously down to Bonnie. How dare she say that! What a rude little—Ash nudged her hard in the side before Misty could open her mouth and spew venom at the younger trainer.

She then blurted instead: "I mean, ehem, I'm sorry to disappoint." Her words fell between grunts while she rubbed her aching side, and she stormed away from Ash and the small girl in order to fall onto the overly large couch where she kicked her feet up onto the coffee table, then glared at nothing in particular. _Froakie, Kalos, and two weeks off were worth this;_ if she could keep chanting that to herself, she could get through this—she didn't know these three, after all. And more than likely, she would never see any of them again after this.

One day. She told herself. _One. Day._

Then Ash took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, and Misty glared at him, gesturing at him to move closer; but he didn't understand her flailing, discrete arms and shrugged at her while pikachu watched with fear for his trainers.

 _Come here_ , Misty mouthed, cursing his dull senses. When Ash finally clued in, Bonnie and Serena had taken the space between then; with Bonnie nearly forcing Serena to sit beside Ash, while she took a seat beside Misty.

"You know, Ash never mentioned you before."  
"Hmm, funny." The less Misty said, the better. "He's forgetful."

"I am not." Ash barked from his side of the couch. Misty glared briefly, then gazed sweetly at Bonnie—or at least tried too—this little girl had eyes of steel.

"I did some research on you—you're the Cerulean City gym leader aren't you?" Bonnie asked in the same tone a private investigator would ask their prime suspect.

"...I am." Misty stalled, exhaling. "You really didn't mention that?"

"It never came up." Ash spewed, folded his arms defensively.

"It's weird how Ash wouldn't call a friend who is almost considered a water pokemon master when he was having problems with greninja; why _is that_?"

"Because he's stubborn, bull headed and slightly egotistic?" Misty tossed nonchalantly—if these were the only questions that Bonnie had, this would be a cake walk.

"He's not egotistic." Serena popped in immediately, but then covered her mouth. "...uhm, sorry."

Misty's eyes fell past Bonnie, who was short enough sitting that Misty could see clearly over her head and at Serena who looked at her feet. Ash was shaking his head viciously beside her, but then Misty narrowed her eyes.

"Nah, if you have something to say, might as well just say it."

"I don't have anything to say."

"Really? Because you guys are kind of unnerving." Misty declared, smacking her lips in justification while Ash inhaled, mentally screaming at her to stop making _things worse_. They only had to _sit in silence_ , have _dinner_ and they could go on their own way.

"What's unnerving is that Ash had a secret girlfriend!" Serena gasped, sitting back to glare into Misty's sea-green eyes. "I mean, how long have you two even been dating?"

"Three years" "Two years" they blurted in unison, then shared a brief, panicked look; reversing the claim—but still messing up.

"Well, is it two or three years? See, you don't even know!" Bonnie barked, throwing up her arms. "I call a fake!" she accused, pointing at Misty who was clearly not amused as Delia walked back in.

"Fake?" The mother echoed, and Ash's ears twitched as he looked over his shoulder at his mother who was carrying an assortment of sweets and drinks for the group. At the corner, working on a project, Clemont looked away, and shook his head—wanting to stay out of this mess.

"It was _officially_ two years ago." Misty grumbled stubbornly, crossing her arms. Followed by a sigh from Ash who added; "But it was _technically_ three years ago."

They then mentally highfived, and Misty repeated her list of opportunities for making it through this day. A pleasant sigh passed through Delia as she walked back into the living room, rest the snacks on the table, and a stewing Bonnie took a seat on a rocking chair beside her brother.

"Oh, good." Delia said. "But why wouldn't you tell me sooner Ash?" Delia asked sweetly, and this time Misty looked past Serena at Ash, who grit his teeth.

Misty visited Delia quite a bit over the last three years—it didn't make _sense_ not to tell the woman since they were already so close to begin with. Ash coughed, and curled his toes in his shoes.

"Can I tell you _later_?" Ash managed, since it was the only excuse he could manage—plus, that gave him at least a few hours to think of a good reason.

Awestruck, Delia took a moment to refocus. "Yes, of course." She said, looking between Ash and Misty's face with that same sweet gaze—she was unreadable, and Misty cursed that motherly disposition.

"Anyways, why don't you share the story on how you two started dating; it's not every day Ash brings home a girl—let alone one he's known since he was a kid."

Misty saw Serena visibly deflate, but she had her own worries—why did _how_ they started dating matter? Who even asked questioned like that? Oh man, she was not prepared enough for this!

"I need to use the washroom." Misty blurted out simultaneously with Ash, and they looked at each other with a narrowed expression while an awkward silence filled the corners of the room. Neither moved; they couldn't both bail—they were unfortunately in this situation together. Instead, they both sat back down, and while Ash was slowly counting down his days that he had left to live—Misty was rationalizing a story in her mind.

"It was shortly after the Hoenn region." She said quickly. "When he, Brock, May and Max came to Pallet town and we traveled together again for a short time."

"Right! That night before everyone else showed up!" Ash declared boldly, and Misty face palmed with red cheeks while Delia nearly choked on the cookie that she was eating.

Against her better judgment, she rolled with it; but went for some ego shots. "And he cried like a baby about how much he missed traveling with me."

"I did not." He argued quickly. " _You_ were the one who cried." Ash groaned angrily, and then when a short bicker erupted, Delia cooed.

"Aww, that's so sweet." the mother sighed happily. "My son is growing up so fast!"

"Like a weed." Misty mocked sincerely, forcing a smile at Ash that he returned with a venomous frown.

"Can we talk about something else?" Serena suddenly blurted out, realizing that this might not have been the best course of action, after all. Even this, was too painful to listen to.

 **XOXs**

The rest of the evening was spent tossing fake confession after fake confession—the worst was when it came to physical contact, sitting near each other, touching; _not_ fighting. As well as the constant jabs they threw at each other in spiteful retaliation.

By the end of the day, Ash wasn't so sure asking Misty for help had been such a good idea—apparently, he was known as a crier, and she and Serena were best friends now. He couldn't wait for this day to be over with. Where he thought his friends would fiercely judge him for his secret girlfriend, after their initial introduction, the conversations shied away from relationships. They spent more time at professor Oak's lab, where Misty spent more time talking with Gary and Tracey than she did them; and then afterwards, they sat through an awkward dinner; which the mood obviously curbed by Misty constant, overly sweet, mocking disposition.

 _"Would you like more vegetables dear?"_ she would croon beside him—though if it hadn't been for her odd gestures; because that's what they were, _odd;_ Ash was pretty sure this facade might have shattered. Time and again they almost broke into their traditional bickering cycles, but Misty always surprised him with some form of affection.

 _"How are you feeling, Ash?"_ she would croak before pinching his cheek;

 _"Let me help you, Ash."_ She would groan before 'nudging' him; which in Misty terms was shoving him.

And of _course_ the constant physical contact. Did she always touch him so much, or was that just for the occasion? She sat beside him, touched his arm, and generally kept away from his friends if she wasn't helping to embarrass him. Apparently, she couldn't share enough stories about when _he_ was ten, and still a beginning pokemon trainer.

Unfortunately, Clemont, Bonnie, and Serena were interested in the stories, so Ash was the punching bag for Misty's frivolous frustrations of their false relationship.

Ash only had to remind himself that the day was almost over—that the awkward half-truths would end, and then he could go on his marry way to Alola, relax, and worry about paying Misty back later. She was, after all, technically getting in a few good insulting jabs he couldn't respond to right away.

When the time came to say their goodbyes to his Kalos companions, Misty waved oddly from the train station beside Ash; her fingers curled into his uncomfortably sweaty palm, and they forced smiles over their twitching lips as the group departed. They stayed connected only as long as it took for them to board the train—and then their limbs separated like the red sea.

"I should have made you pay me!" She sighed, running her hand over her face.

Ash tossed with a scowl; "I think they call that prostitution."

"Technically you're the 'john'! You totally bribed a woman, _me,_ to be your girlfriend!" Misty croaked to his accusation; with no more ears around, he stomped his foot.

"Well you're the one who accepted the payment." Ash shot back, throwing his arms up while pikachu sighed with an exhausted sigh. Misty followed after the raven-haired trainer.

"Accepting payment doesn't make me a prostitute! Prostitutes are females that are paid for sex!"

Ash's face flushed, "Well never mind then! You're just _something else_ then!"

"Something else? How about a thank you!"

"Thanks for making me look pathetic!" Ash snarled waving his arm at her. Misty's face fell, her features flushed, and her blood boiled while she marched beside him.

"You were the one who asked _me_ to pretend to be your girlfriend! Who even does that?"  
"Me, apparently! Besides, it's not like I wanted to—and you could have been a little more decent! I didn't embarrass you"

"Because I wasn't the one in the wrong!" She yelled, about a block from his house, causing Ash to spin in her direction, and stare her down. Since the were kids, Ash was easily her same height, but she didn't back down from his gaze. Instead, she squared her shoulders and glared at him with narrowed eyes. Dirt kicked up around them with a distant wind while pikachu offered a second hand opinion.

"If you have something to say, why don't you tell me what you really thing?" Ash muttered.

"You lied to your friends about having a girlfriend because you were too chicken to reject someone; you haven't changed at all, Ash. You're a little kid who looks for an easy way out of real life problems. What can't be solved with a battle is never faced head on."

Ash cocked his jaw. "Well what would you have done?"

"I would have told her I wasn't ready." She explained, as if speaking from experience "You were the one who lied, you _were_ wrong. Now let's go back and tell your mother the truth so _at_ least I won't have to lie to her anymore." before Ash could stop her, she strolled in the direction of his house, and a slow panic set in.

"Tell my mother?" He gasped. "Misty don't!" Ash argued, following her back to the house; her trot has formed into a slow sprint, and by the time she reached the front door, Ash tackled her through it, struggled through her surprising strength to wrench his hand over her mouth, and grapple her against the floor where she kicked. Banging alerted the mother inside the kitchen who strolled out, holding a planner and a phone.

A look of concern washed over her face at the scene; her son half kneeling, half standing, holding a struggling Misty who curled her fingers around his collar—it looked like something from a horrible romance movie; only, instead of passion in their eyes, there was contrite anger, backed up by a scream from Ash when Misty's teeth clenched the corners of his hand, and forced him up and then off of her.

"I have to tell you something, Delia!" Misty shrieked, Ash bounced back quickly.

"No she doesn't!" Ash lied, rubbing his hand and glaring at the feisty redhead.

Then, clues started clicking in from Delia's appearance, and docile expression. Misty pointed to the notes in her hand, then to Delia's phone while Ash gawked at his mother.

"Oh, I was just telling your father, Ash; oh, and your uncle—they want to meet her. It's so exciting."

Ash's face fell, as did Misty. "What, why are you calling them?" Misty painstakingly asked, her voice pitched.

"Because Ash finally has a girlfriend! Someone to attend the pokemon balls with, and the league mysteries! Oh, my. I've already signed you two up for three events as a couple!" She paused, wiping away a tear. "Get this, there's a couples contest in Alola that I entered you two in." She whined. "Isn't it great?"

"Mom, I need to tell you something." Ash blurted out worriedly, suddenly agreeing that _not_ telling his mother was going to be the death of him.

"What is it, Ash?" Delia said sweetly, lowering the phone from her face to her shoulder to keep the conversation private.

"...Mom, I uh, Misty and I; we...what if I haven't been completely honest with you?" Ash stuttered, watching his mother's face slowly drain of color—sadness washed with disappointment; beaming into Ash's soul like the soul of a dying animal. He jerked, watching her expression soften to concern, then acceptance.

"Yes?" She managed, silencing a sniffle and holding her chest. Misty saw the tears at the corner of her eyes, and she saw the cogs in Ash's head breaking long before they snapped.

"I haven't been honest...I was worried about what my friends would think about me, and I wasn't able to tell the truth because you know how I am about _relationship_ stuff-" Delia lowered the phone, glanced at her paperwork and then shuffled herself back inside. Ash and Misty followed nervously, watching the woman click the phone onto the receiver, and slump into her seat, quietly. She should have expected as much.

"It's alright Ash, I understand; you couldn't tell me the truth because...I'm... I'm." Then the tears— _oh the tears_.

"Mom it's not that big of a deal..."

"I'm never going to have grand babies and my only son lies to me!" She choked, throwing her head over her arms which rested crisscross on the wooden table, over the plans she had already created for Ash and Misty's life 'together'. Misty pulled on her collar, feeling awkward—she hadn't expected Delia to react _like this_.

Ash's lower lip quivered, he _hated_ seeing his mother cry—she had, on only a few occasions cried in front of Ash over sadness—or something that he had done, and now he felt worse than he ever had. His heart ached.

"Mom..." Ash started, then in much of the same way he found himself in this situation to begin with; the words fell out of his mouth. "... _Misty and I are engaged_."

" _What_." It wasn't a question, it was barely even a comment—no, Misty's voice sounded like the crack of a demon before it snatched and devoured children from their beds. Ash swallowed hard, watching his mother rocket from her seat; full tears flowing.

"Oh my god! Next time start with that, Ash!" Then she cleared the distance from the table to the door frame, wrapped her arms around Ash, and Misty wanted to join in—only, with her hands, around his neck; shaking a little.

"I'm so happy for you; congratulations! You couldn't have picked a better bride." Delia's happiness poured from her mouth, while meanwhile, Ash couldn't form a single coherent thought outside of: _Misty is going to kill me_.

And she was. The very moment Delia separated, gasping that she needed to alert the news, she spun around on her toes, and fumbled with her phone; desperately trying to punch numbers through her tears so she could _tell the world_.

"Can I borrow Ash for a minute?" Misty asked, in a strangely calm tone. Delia waved her on as she dragged Ash away from the kitchen, unable to form words in her happiness.

Ash yelped quietly while Misty jabbed and pushed him out the back door. She shut the door behind her, made sure the windows were closed, and then pointed to Ash. The dying sun reflected the rage in her eyes, and she growled.

"What did you _do?_ " Misty hissed, visibly shaking from her anger.

"I don't know, I panicked! I can't stand seeing my mom cry! Did you see how sad she looked."

"You told her we were _engaged,_ Ash! You're not even old enough to get married!" Her thin fingers wrapped around his collar, shaking him violently as she spoke.

"What in the world is _wrong_ with you! I knew this was a terrible decision! I knew it!" Misty bellowed and hissed, taking her frustration out on his jello-like body. How could this have happened? What made this _happen_.

"You are going to go in there right now and fix this!" Misty screamed, and Ash shook his head aggressively.

"I can't, she has too much power over me."

"I'm about to have power over you when I shove my foot up your ass!" Misty screamed, releasing him from her throttle and dropping him to his ass. He rubbed his head sorely; it wasn't like _he_ wanted to be in this situation, either.

"We can just fake it for a month, and then I can say we are too young, and get out of it! Just wait until she losing interest! I can't watch her cry like that."

"I'm going to _kill you_!" Misty bellowed grabbing him again when the sudden ruckus echoed through the house.

"Calm down, please calm down!" Ash tried, but while stomping her feet, Misty shouted.

"I don't _want_ to calm down! You said that last time and I fell for it and now look at where we are!"

"It's only my mom that knows! We can tell her not to call anyone and we can still figure this out! We just need to wait until she calms down and then we can act like this _never_ happened!" Ash said rationally, and given the circumstances, an anxious Misty bit down on her lip to calm her nerves.

"You better be right." Misty then lunged him forward, through the back door and back into the hallway where the two of them saw Delia was standing at the front door, talking to someone; a _certain_ someone with an auburn haired grandson and dark green haired assistant.

"There they are! The happy couple!" Professor Oak confessed, waving at Ash and Misty who's faces were stuck at permanent shock—Delia worked fast, apparently.

"Ash?" Misty said threateningly.

"...Yeah Mist?"

"You better run." At least she had the decency to warn him.

"Gotcha." Then he ran, and Misty was at his heels, shrieking obscenities at him.

This was it, Ash's life was over.

 **Author's Note:**

Ahh, more of Ash's antics -gets shot-

This turned out to be a lot longer than I thought it would be. Upon the change this ever became a full story, it would be way more fleshed out, and not so rushed (because there are a ton of ideas) I just didn't want to cram everything into a one-shot, I suppose. They get too long otherwise. I THINK, the idea would be the same "Misty pretends to be Ash's girlfriend" but I would change the scenario in a bunch of ways. Man, I've already almost convinced myself, this was hilariously fun to write.

In my brain, I feel like things have a way of spiraling; if you lie once, the lie only gets bigger until the truth is told—when you throw in a crazy author and terrible antics, you end up with something like this.

Let me know what you guys think?


	11. Chapter 11: Proposals

**Pairing:** Ash/Misty

 **Rated:** T

 **Genre:** Romance/Humor

 **Summary:** In which Ash learns about married life and romance while trying to propose to Misty; however nothing ever seems to go quite right.

 **Most likely story name:** 99 Proposals.

 **XOXs**

W _hat do you do when she says no?_

They were snuggled happily in her double bed, under the comfort of cozy, white comforters, during one of Ash's routine visits. He was twenty two, on the next journey to become the best pokemon trainer in the world; and at a constant, moving pace forward. Life was taking off while he made preparations to join the Master's cup in the following two years.

Today was different though, Misty was sat up in bed, with her pillows fluffed behind her, and Ash was curled onto one side of the bed, with his face buried in girly-scented pillowcases until he flipped over to hang a heavy arm around her waist. The redhead, who was currently enthralled with a book, never flinched and only turned the page.

Ash grunted once, to no response, then again, to a quiet 'hmm'.

"Must be a good book." Ash finally muttered, sitting up with tired, droopy eyes. Slowly, her face fell, and her sea-green eyes fell on his innocent, brown eyes.

"Why can't you be as romantic as the man in this book?" Ash's eyebrows knit together in response, and a playful grin fell over his lips while she continued, pointing to the book as her only witness. She was joking, right?

"The boyfriend in this story showers his girlfriend with flowers, and chocolates and sweet letters and a million kind gestures." Misty rambled, earning a smirk from Ash. He propped himself up on one elbow raising his eyebrows.

"Well, he clearly doesn't have anything of importance to do."

Wrong answer, apparently, because Misty's fowl gaze fell on him, and her lips turned downward into a frustrated frown. "What does that mean?" She croaked

"Well," he stumbled. "I just mean that I don't have time to do all of that stuff. I'm busy, you know that."

Her scowl only grew larger, her eyebrows only lowered closer, and her eyes grew more narrow.

"What's more important than me?" She asked. Of course, it was a trick question, and the correct answer was 'nothing', Ash knew that; but somewhere in his sleep deprived brain, his mouth moved without thinking.

"Well, some battles..." He didn't even have time to finish his sentence before a frustrated Misty dropped the book on his face, silencing him.

"I don't know why I put up with you some days!"

"Awh, c'mon Mist, you know I hate that mushy, girly stuff!" As tried, scraping the paper back novel off of his face while she huffed at him.

"Well maybe if you would try _reading it sometimes_ you wouldn't hate it so much! You would be surprised what a little bit of effort does!" She countered, and Ash felt his head spin.

"I put in effort!"

"You crawl into my bed when I'm sleeping!"

"...that's effort!" Ash argued weakly while she pointed at him with a perfectly manicured finger.

"That's creepy!" Misty groaned, and Ash inhaled to prepare his defense.

"You've never complained before."

"That's because I don't get to see you often. That doesn't change the fact that it would be nice to be surprised with something other than the bulge between your legs!"

"H-hey!" Ash stammered, face turning bright red at her accusation. "I do stuff for you all the time."

"Really?" Misty challenged. "Like what?"

A few minutes passed, consisting mostly of Ash racking his brain, and chewing the sides of his cheeks.

"I helped you clean the pool last month."

"What else?" She questioned, pursing her lips and cocking her jaw to one side with a knowing glare.

Ash stammered. "It doesn't matter, I can't remember them when I'm put on the spot!"  
"That's because you _don't_!" Misty puffed.

"I do so!"

"Ash..." Misty groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose; they were in for a long night if he didn't just admit to being wrong; however, that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"Oh, and today, see, I waited around while you read your book." Ash said, as if sitting in her company was doing her a favor; she only scowled larger.

"You're kidding, right?"  
"...no...?" Ash offered weakly, and her breath stalled in her chest, and she wriggled her hand to his chest and squeezed the collar of his shirt.

"I want _flowers_ and chocolate! You have never even celebrated Valentines day with me! I get more gifts from my students!" her voice was strained, exaggerated and tired while she shook him gently.

"Miiiisty." He whined, throwing his head back. "I don't like thinking about romance, and you _know_ that!"

Misty threw her arms up and then folded them quickly; "So! I _like_ romance."

"But I don't!"

Then she snapped, "Well, fine! If you _hate_ it so much, you can sleep on the couch tonight!"

Then with lightning like reflexes, she yanked the covers off of him, and rolled him out of the bed and over the edge without much effort. With a thump, he fell to the floor, and an astonished Ash rose, rubbing his backside with an absolutely betrayed expression.

"You're not serious!" Ash gasped, knowing that they only had a few days with each other before he left on _another_ journey. Misty cocked her head to one side, and stilled her jaw with a cold gaze.

"Dead serious! Get out!" She yelled, tossing a pillow at him—at least she was still merciful enough to give him _that_.

"But...but..." Ash stammered worriedly, "We haven't even...you know."

She shrieked violently, like a banshee off the coast of Lavender Town. "So _that_ you don't hate!?"

Ash froze on the spot; was he supposed to deny the accusation? Because he definitely did not dislike it. His mouth opened, then closed like a magikarp and he winced. "Well, I have hormones like you..."

"GET OUT!" She screamed, lunging the book at his head—apparently, Ash was full of all of the wrong answers, because he dashed from the bedroom to the living room with speed that rivaled a fully trained jolteon, and took cover behind the closed door; listening carefully to her disdain and distasteful muttering below her breath.

"...Man..." Ash groaned, smacking his lips while he sat on the couch beside pikachu's perch. "I hate it when she gets into these moods." he grumbled to himself, thinking that Aunt Flow must have stopped in for her monthly visit or _something._

On the coffee table, glaring at him from it's position beside Misty's coffee mug, was _another_ one of those silly romance novels; the last few weeks, she seemed to be possessed by them—to the point that she was writing about them in letters and mentioning them in everyday conversation; was Ash really not _giving her_ everything she wanted? Did she _have_ to read boundless tales of some two-dimensional, overly masculine character falling head over heels in love with some Mary-sue female who was imperfection in a perfect way; or at least, that was the gist of what he read (which wans't a lot). Sometimes, affairs were involved, and office romances! The ones Misty adored the most were the science fiction romance, and the mystery romances; she had a thing for _undercover_ agents with the female lead falling for a super hero, even though she actually knows the man in person. The 'Superman and Louis" syndrome, was how Misty labeled it so Ash would better understand.

Maybe she _had_ been dropping a few hints here and there... well, if she wanted him to be more romantic, why wouldn't she just _tell him so_?

They _have_ been dating for five-ish years, sure, the first _few_ years were in secret, but they still counted them. Ash wasn't even sure the last time he bought her a gift... her birthday? Maybe? No, scratch that, he sent her a card with doodles on the inside and twenty dollars. He _did_ bring her flowers once, when they first started dating and they were a big unofficial secret.

He picked them straight off the rose bush outside of her house, but she was so pleased to have them, she didn't care where he found them. In fact, Misty had been so happy, she put them in a vase on the kitchen table, and kept them there preserved for an entire week. Even though Misty could burn water, she somehow had a magical touch when it came to _things_ that she liked.

Outside of her tomboyish persona, and dedication to her profession, she was a huge, sentimental romantic. Unfortunately, Ash was the complete opposite. Where Misty liked to snuggle and watch movies, Ash was perfectly fine with talking about pokemon, and spending time battling together. They were _still_ together, so he didn't understand why they needed to do new activities.

 _It's special because it's different_ , she told him once before; but Ash didn't really understand that. If he went out of his way to please her, then spending time together was now more important? He sighed. He was so confused.

Ash twirled the pillowcase between his fingers, trying to discern the feeling of loneliness; she has _never_ made him sleep on the couch before, even when they get into big fights, they always ended up making up by the end of the night regardless. But here he was, couch shamed and bitter.

Earlier, when he was curled beside Misty, he had to fight the urge to pass out, _now_ he had to force his eyes closed. There was no way he could sleep like this! Her green couch was uncomfortable, and his feet hung over the edge, and it smelled like a mixture of chlorine and stagnant alcohol. Maybe if he begged for forgiveness it wasn't too late to crawl under her covers and get a decent night of rest before tomorrows activities. They were attending an official league meeting together at the indigo plateau, and unfortunately, Ash needed to be well rested in order to function.

Sitting up and preparing mentally to beg for Misty's mercy, the bed room door cracked open the very moment his head cleared the back of the couch. Her lights were on so she had a glow around her entire body because the living room lights were turned off. When she emerged _practically_ wearing nothing at all, his stomach clenched, and heat rose directly to his cheeks. Some kind of frilly, flowing, _lingerie? r_ eplaced her previous benign, simple pajamas, and his jaw unhinged watching her stoic, _sultry_ expression.

"You can come back in." defeated, she sighed while dropping her hands to her side at his gawking expression. Ash didn't hesitate, before she even had the chance to fully turn and retreat back into her bed, Ash scaled the distance of the couch and living room, and wrapped his arms around her thin, yet athletic body.

"You're perfect!" he gasped into her neck and nuzzled his face into the crook. Goosebumps rose over her flesh, a feeling he adored against his lips when he kissed below her earlobe.

"Marry me?" he added shortly after, in a nonchalant, almost teasing voice.

"What?" Misty's face twitched and her body stiffened. Silently, Ash swore at himself when her previous expression turned to one of venom. "Did you ask me?" She growled and Ash felt himself sweat.

"Ahh...haha..." He laughed nervously, unable to repeat himself.

 **XOXS**

The problem with dating a romantic person, was there were some phrases that were taboo; for Misty that phrase was anything involving the 'm' word, without Ash's full devoted attention. It wasn't like he was _joking_ , he just wasn't...well, _serious_. Not to say he isn't serious about _them!_ Doesn't she know the difference?

So, he was sleeping on the couch, and to be sure that he wouldn't get any ideas, she locked the bed room door, and _took his pillow_. He removed his shirt to use as a pillow and frowned, thinking of her all alone in her bed in _that_ outfit. And how little sleep he was going to get on this couch—he was better off sleeping on the floor.

 _Man_! Ash thought inwardly in a panic, why did he have to open his mouth? He blamed Brock for this! Spending six years of his adolescent life with the pokemon breeder messed with his ability to handle romantic situations normally. If he wasn't completely oblivious, he was putting his foot in his mouth. _Wonderful!_

Ash had ninety-nine problems, and Misty was a part of every one of them.

 **Author's Note:**

So, there are always a ton of either really, really romantic proposals or sort of just 'he popped the question' without any thought; but what happens when a very romantically stubborn Misty tells him no continuously? What if Misty -didn't/couldn't/wouldn't- accept that Ash was super unromantic, and refused to marry him unless he put some effort, understanding and thought into what he was asking/doing?

Just a thought. This, of course, won't literally be 99 Proposals when it becomes a full story. But I thought the name was suiting. XD; -just having fun-

This was heavily inspired after I read a list of "Why women said no to their partners" And I was like "...okay, someone help me, I'm shipping trash. -puts self in garbage bin-"

To answer a reviewer's question; yes. I like to torture Ash, but it's within reason...right?


	12. Chapter 12: Ash's father

**Pairing:** Ash/Misty (sort of)

 **Rated:** T

 **Genre:** Drama/Adventure

 **Summary:** In which Delia's odd behavior allows Ash to learn about his father. Now he has to balance the journey to become a pokemon master, with uncovering his parents secret past. Storyboard

 **Requested by** : LEGAL-EAGLE53

 **Most likely story name:** (taking prompts, I was thinking "Road to father" but I'm not sure)

 **XOXs**

A normal boy from Pallet Town, that's what Ash was supposed to be; but over a journey expanding over ten years, he realized that he was anything but _normal_. In many ways, the small boy who was bullied as a child, with little to no friends outside of stray pokemon, was more special than most people gave him credit for. When the world fell into chaos, and evil tried to overtake good, Ash always seemed to be there to save the day. His titles changed over the years, but the principles remained the same.

Somehow, Ash was lucky enough not to earn a _Hero_ complex.

Misty would have begged to differ, according to how the six foot male sat boldly across from herself and their long companion, Brock. Legs were crossed over one another in a superficial way, his mouth was cocked to one side in a snark grin, and his arms where draped over both sides of the booth were he sat, and that forever, pestering gleam was alive like fire in his eyes. Time changed him physically, but his eyes were always the same. No matter how untamed his black hair became, how many scars he developed from years of 'saving the world' and pokemon training, or how bulky he became from constant travel; he was still Ash deep down.

And still a bit of an egotistical ass.

"I'm telling you, you guys should have seen the way Team Outstanding tried to take over the city, and then I showed up with that legendary pokemon and my companions, and we brought down six years of war efforts; can you believe that? In _one day_."

"Yes, Ash, you're _amazing,_ let me have your babies." Misty mocked voice lathered in sarcasm that effectively shut down his elation. It wasn't like he hadn't told the two of them the story _a billion_ times since he stopped to visit them in Viridian City. Brock chuckled at her remark and Ash's beaming confidence mellowed into a slight scowl.

"Well maybe I would if you weren't such a negative nancy."

"Negative Nancy?" Misty echoed, and beside the two of them, Brock had covered his mouth to silence his powerful laughter. Misty glanced at the waitress and raised her hand.

"Hey, are you a negative person?" Misty shouted to the waitress, who look around, first confused if _she_ was the one being spoken to, then after realizing that their group was the only one in the diner at 11:00pm, she blushed and swallowed hard.

"Uhh, no..?" she answered unsure of herself.

"Great, then would you like to have this man's babies? He's super amazing!" Misty gestured to Ash, who immediately slammed her hands onto the table, rattling their half-empty plates of fries and blushing furiously.

"Misty!" He shouted, while the waitress turned as bright as a lamp.

"I...uh... I...have to go!" She said quickly, dashing into the kitchen through swinging brown doors. At that point, Brock couldn't contain himself, and burst into a room full of laughter, his bellowing notions bounced from the red booths, through the white walls, and down the black and white titled floors.

"What are you doing?" Ash screeched, to which Misty looked at him in mock-astonishment, shaking her head slowly side to side.

"I'm sorry, I can't contain myself! My ovaries are just vibrating with the need to express how _amazing_ you are." Since his hands were already grasping at hers, she squeezed them in return for effect, and Ash snapped them away and slapped his blushing face to hide his reaction.

In return, Misty sat back, titled her head innocently to one side, and smiled merciless at him. Her lips curled up in the same fashion her victory smirks had when they were children—a feature that didn't change, unlike the rest of her appearance. Her hair was longer now, no longer the Cerulean City gym leader, she no longer had to wear her hair short, it was, however, _always_ tied back into a bun, or a pony tail, or a braid. Her attire changed drastically over the years as well, she wore more reds and blues, and yellow vests over the top of ted tank tops and long blue jeans. Rather than settling for gloves, she wore wrist bands with league markings; that way, she wouldn't have to wear the official Elite Four uniform. Along with her attire, her body, like Ash's, went through many changes, nothing short of turning the boyish Misty into a sculpted work of feminine art, that she sooner kicked to the curb for an athletic physic, and freckled skin.

"You're a horrible person." Ash uttered behind his fingers before letting them drop to his lap in utter defeat. His cheeks still burned red, and Misty's lips curled inwardly, and she mock-touched her chest and swallowed.

"Thank you, that means so much coming from you."

Then he kicked her under the table and scowled playfully at her. "Stop being a witch!" He yelped to which she kicked him back, laughing like children.

Brock sat up. "Stop it, this is why I can't take you two anywhere! Would it kill you two to act like normal _people?_ " Brock gasped, his cheeks red from lack of air, and tears at the corners of his eye. He was still catching his breath when he spoke and this time, Ash rested his elbows on the table and nodded his chin at him.

"You're just mad that Misty hit on the waitress first." Ash shot out, eyebrows narrowed and smirking. Misty joined the gaze by leaning far from Brock, and cupping her cheek with one hand.

"I-" Brock gasped. "I have a girlfriend!" He dropped the bomb, grasping for straws—because deep down, the natural 'Brock-instinct' has been fighting the urge to jump at the waitress for the last three hours they were sitting in the diner.

"What?" Ash and Misty gasped in unison.

"Blow-up dolls don't count!" Misty added, followed with a remark by Ash.

"Is she here right now?" Ash asked, clearly insulting Misty who whipped her head back at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, clearly misunderstanding while Ash quickly gestured to the air around him.

"I mean, _imaginary."_

"Oh shut the heck up." Brock bellowed, face coated with a deep scowl. "She is _real_ and she is _not_ a blow-up doll, either!" He whispered in a serious tone, smacking Misty on the arm while he spoke.

Then again, they shouldn't have been surprised, the fresh-out of school Pokemon Doctor probably had a lot of ladies running after him, but _dating_ , that was weird.

"When did this happen?" Misty groaned, a bit offended he waited until _now_ to tell them. While Ash was a hit-or-miss conversation wise, Brock and Misty spoke frequently, primarily because she sent a lot of trainers off to his clinic; in her defense, she was keeping him in business.

"Well, about two months ago..."

"With who?" Ash's mouth was still open in disbelief that his friend would be dating—then again, being older than both he and Misty, it was only a matter of time.

Then, a blush, a large, scarlet blush that started at his neck, and slowly worked up to his forehead. He pulled at the collar of his button up shirt, and cleared his throat. Where Misty and Ash had both changed a lot respectfully, Brock _looked_ the same, only larger. His eyes were still narrowed to a slit, his skin was still dark, and his hair still pointy; the biggest changes came in his attire, and his broad shoulders. He easily towered over both Ash and Misty at 6'5", and became the notion of the prominent Rock type trainer he always should have been; a delicate, large, masculine trainer; but still Brock. Since graduating from the Johto region's pokemon medical school, he stopped wearing casual clothes, and re-opened his wardrobe with suits and ties, and a professional appearance of vests, and slacks. If he was going to be helping people, he believed he should _always_ look the part. Misty never argued, and Ash didn't really care about appearances.

"Well...you both already know her."

"Okay..." Misty nudged him in the arm, bouding her confidence in him.

"Lucy, the former frontier brain." Brock blurted out, and the both sat back.

"Oh man, so that ship did come back?" Ash chuckled, though Misty looked personalty offended.

"The snake girl?" She hissed, then looked at Ash, then back at Brock. Her features relaxed, upon seeing the happiness danced over Brock's face upon mentioning her, and she let the awkwardness that was Lucy slide. "I mean, you're both odd enough that it could work." Misty observed and mentally, she and Ash highfived in agreement.

"She's not odd." Brock said. "She's a wonderful, beautiful woman who knows everything there is to know about me. Lucy is the most amazing woman I've ever met and..." He started off, and Ash cuffed his cheeks on the table.

"Brock, she's gotta be weird to date you." Ash observed, and Brock's glow faded, replaced by a glare.

"I thought you were on my side?" He wagered and Ash threw his arms up in defense.

"I _am_ on your side. I'm just saying. Lucy's nice, she's just, well." He paused. "Never mind, you're perfect for each other." Ash managed, rather than throwing out how odd the two of them were. That's what made them 'perfect' for one another, right? Misty was still on the fence, but shrugged.

"Congratulations. I guess that means you'll be the first to start spitting out children. I demand one named Cesar Salad." She pat him on the shoulder while he groaned loudly, and rolled his eyes. Ash stiffed a laugh at the long lost memory of their _terrible_ code names.

"Tom." Ash bellowed, covering his mouth to keep his voice down. "Name one Tom."

"Could you two stop! This is why I can't tell you anything; you make everything into a big joke!" Brock suddenly snapped, ruining the moment. In seriousness, both Ash and Misty's backs straightened at Brock's clear offense.

"...Sorry Brock, we're just playing." Misty offered apologetically, but Brock looked away from the two of them, crossing his arms.

"Sometimes you two _play_ too much! This is serious for me."

"And we're seriously happy for you." Ash said quickly in his best attempt to rectify the problem. Brock slowly looked over his two old friends, and saw the honest sincerity behind their eyes and hunched forward a bit sadly.

"I just really like her, I don't want anything to go wrong." His voice hung in their air with a calmness that made the two of them smile.

"And so long as you act like yourself, I'm sure it'll be fine." Misty assured him, clasping his shoulder warmly.

"Thanks." He chuckled. "You two really are the best friends a guy could have."

"Aren't we?" Ash echoed, stroking his chin. Misty glared.

"There you go, Brock; you've inflated his ego again." She joked, though Ash stuck his tongue out at her.

The rest of their evening was spent trading interesting stories; less of Ash bragging about his most _recent_ heroic deed (mostly because Misty would embarrass him for gloating), and of Brock awkwardly expressing his undying devotion forLucy. Misty occasionally talked about her time as an Elite Four member, but what the conversation was truly drawn to as they stumbled out of the diner at 2:00am, was Ash.

"So." he started, catching the brisk, winter air while he tucked his scarf up around his nose, and his jacket closer to his body. "I _have_ some news, too, actually." Ash grunted, unable to look at his companions. His nerves were on fire. Misty and Brock looked worriedly at one another, each pulling on their own winter coats and scarves.

"What's up, Ash?" Misty wondered aloud, watching his back as he turned to look at his friends.

"I finally got accepted."

A long pause whistled between them, the gentle late night breeze tickled their noses, reminding them of the forever growing chill in the air. One by one, their stoic expressions lifted, Brock and Misty's lips curled from frowns into wide grins, and they exhaled pleasantly. Brock clapped in a bout of excitement while Misty threw herself forward in glee, and draped her arms around Ash's shoulders, fighting the urge to jump up and down in excitement. At the sudden embrace, Ash puffed and tapped his hands against her back while she squealed happily into his ear: the go-to noise to know that any female was excited. After squeezing the life out of him, she separated to shake him violently, gripping his shoulders.

"You made it into the Master's Program!?" She yelped, disturbing the tranquility of the world around them with her cries; her sudden excitement dug into Ash's stomach, eliciting his own harrowing roar while he looked into her sea-green eyes.

"Yes!" He cried, and then Brock joined in, grabbing both Misty and Ash and shaking them both happily.

"Man, it's about time! You've come so far!" Brock sung, pulling his too companions into a warm hug. Both grunted and blew their hair from their face; but accepted the embrace, and enjoyed the sentimental group prosperity.

When they separated, it was as if they were all staring at different people; no longer the bratty teenagers and children they used to be—full fledged, growing adults, and one by one they scoffed and smiled.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner, you dork?" Misty questioned punching him in the upper arm gently.

"I was going to, but I got caught up in everything else. I wanted you two to be the first to know." He looked at them both warmly, his large, brown eyes twinkling in the night sky. Nothing on earth could express the gratitude he held for these two individuals; the people who, if they hadn't been apart of his young life, he might not be standing here today; the trio that started it all. Tears pulled at the edges of his eyes, and Misty swat him in the chest.

"Don't you start crying!" She shouted, knowing well enough that Ash always wore his emotions on his sleeves.

"Wow, it's hard to believe we've all come so far, huh?" Brock gestured to his professional look, and Misty grinned.

"Of course we have. We've worked our asses off." Misty suggested, and her former companions nodded.

"You know, Kanto is apart of the Master's Cup this year, while you're here collecting advanced badges, we should all travel again; like the old days."

Misty reeled backwards, stuffing her cold hands into her pockets. Ash pursed his lips in thought.

"That's a great idea!" Ash followed, snapping his fingers.

"That would be the day, huh? Ten years later and we all start traveling together again." Misty mocked, but the moment Ash looked to her, she smacked her lips.

"I would have to destroy your bike again."

"Like hell you would, Ash." She grumbled while Brock nudged the two of them.

"I'm serious. It could be a lot of fun. I can easily take a month off to travel." Brock suggested and Misty scrunched her face. It wasn't difficult for her to take time off, either, but she never liked to. Brock and Ash were already on board; but she wasn't convinced she _wanted_ to go. It was almost even years since her last time on a journey, and her feet ached just at the thought. Then he looked at her and bat his eyes.

"C'mon, Mist. It'll be just like the old times!" Ash offered, and with a response like that; how could she say now? The redhead rolled her eyes, licked her lips; and then nodded slowly.

"Alright. I'll take a month off—but if I get a challenger, I have to be at the indigo plateau, no excuses." She refrained, and Ash and Brock highfived happily. "And we're not taking any 'short cuts'." She warned him, but the duo already turned away, and started mapping out their meeting time with one another, leaving Misty to sigh in the back.

By 3:00am, they were at a cross roads; Brock needed to return to Pewter City to put in a notice, and Misty had to return to the Indigo League plateau for her own time off request. They still had a few weeks before the start of the Master's Program, but once the journey started; it would be a six month, never ending journey until the finals; where Ash would finally take on other champions to become the next Pokemon Master.

They hugged, shared short goodbyes, and agreed to meet Ash in Pallet Town in exactly one week. They would spend the next week preparing their route, and would leave together as a group at the start of March.

After a brief farewell, they parted, and Ash took the day route to Pallet Town. Pikachu was at Professor Oak's laboratory, waiting on a liter of pichu's with his little pikaete that Ash found and befriended on one of his earlier travels. The only time pikachu ever willingly went into his ball was the moment he realized his little spawns were going to be born halfway across the world, and the fastest way to get there was through pokemon transfer. Ten years, and it took the bonding moment of becoming a father for pikachu to return to his pokeball for only a split second.

Ash grinned to himself as he set up came in the early morning, expecting only a few hours of sleep before heading toward Pallet Town.

 **XOXs**

Ash's mother wasn't expecting him. After years of travel, he usually left her a voicemail indicating when he would be stopping in, but today was different. Given the exciting news that he had, he wanted to tell her in person, surprise his mother! After ten years, he was finally going to obtain his dream!

So, when Ash approached his house of twenty years, looked at the front door to see a man quite a few years older than him with black hair, and tanned skin bursting out of the front door; he was surprisingly startled. The man did not pause to glance at Ash, he barely acknowledged Ash's existence before brushing past him in a hurry. However, Ash was never a judgmental person, and the only assumption he offered, was that that man was in a hurry.

Stepping into the door that was left wide open, Ash kicked off his shoes, and hat. Prior to coming to his mother's house, he stopped in to check on pikachu—but like he imagined, the mouse was _not_ leaving his new family, and while Ash adored him, and the new liter, Ash needed to see his mom.

Shoes off, hat gone, and removing his winter folds; Ash inhaled.

"Mom, I'm home!" he hollered through the house.

A startled 'eep' echoed from the kitchen, just to the right of the entrance, down the hall a ways. Followed by the quick sound of shuffling paper on a hard wood desk, and the smashing of a glass. Ash bolted forward, alarm filling into his bones when he stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, staring at his mother who was disheveled for 5:00pm, with her hair tied into a mess; still dressed in her house robes. Clearly, upon hearing Ash, she attempted to clean up; but made matters worse. Water was spilled over the documents she was hording over the tables; a blind array of words that Ash couldn't make heads or tails off, and the container at fault was left shattered on the floor.

Delia, wobbly in her seat, tried to paw at the object with her bare hands, but Ash grabbed her, set back up in her chair, and went to grab a broom and dustpan.

"Jeeze, what's wrong, mom?" Ash asked skeptically, though not worried. He figured she was sick, maybe a little off center, but shortly after speaking; she darted from her seat, and to the kitchen sink where she then proceeded to vomit for an exception amount of time. The smell was bad enough, but when he realized the clear fluid splashed over the documents wasn't water, and the shattered object wasn't a _glass_ , rather a _bottle_ , his face mixed with worry.

"Have you been drinking?" He questioned, knowing well that his mother wasn't a big drinker. In fact, she warned Ash that if he drank before he was twenty-five, she would _personally_ end him. Because of her anti-drinking habits, Ash never wanted to. So this was...

"Are you okay?" He asked, sweeping up the glass so she wouldn't cut her bare feet on the pieces. He dumped the fragments into the garbage, and left the broom beside the trash when he approached his mother, and grasped her hair.

Thanks to a few routines with Dawn, Brock, Misty and her sisters, Ash wasn't completely oblivious to the nature of alcohol—even if he never partook himself—he knew to hold a girl's hair. His mother lurched again, her shoulders rattling under the white house coat while Ash rubbed her upper back smoothly, trying to calm her down. The smell made his stomach turn, but he wasn't going to leave her. It was his mom, after all.

Moments passed before Delia comfortably moved from the sink, back to the chair where he found her prior. Ash couldn't stomach the stench of bile, so he flicked on the tape, and stalked away from the sink with the garbage disposal turned on.

Naturally, the young adult rubbed his mother's shoulder while she groaned below him, resting her head on the table.

"Mom." he tired again. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She offered, wiping her nose and eyes and then grasping at her forehead. Her hair was matted to her face and neck, and Ash did his best to brush it down. "Oh, I didn't want you to see me this way; why didn't you call?"

"Well, I was trying to surprise you." Ash joked. "Surprise?" He offered again while she chuckled at her sons constant sweetness.

"It's a wonderful surprise, but I was in the middle of paperwork, and...ugh." She sighed, looking at the mess the alcohol created; all of her work, whatever it was, was ruined under the smell of toxic vodka. Rubbing a knot from her shoulders, Ash titled his head to the door.

"So, who was that man leaving the house?"

"No one." She snapped, suddenly rolling her shoulders to avoid her only son's touch, and swiping at the wet documents to clean them.

"No one?" Ash scoffed, though not rudely. "Didn't seem like no one; he was in a hurry."

"I don't want to talk about it!" She snapped, her voice screeching. Ash bounced backwards, rushing to the sink to click it off, and then collecting a glass for his mother while she frantically picked up the wet parchment.

"Sorry.." he uttered below his breath before approaching her again, this time holding a glass of clear water.

Delia took the water carefully, then while she sipped the fluid, she muttered under her breath.

"I never meant for it to get this far out of hand..." She tried. "They're trying to reposes the house." _Ah, that explained the drinking_ , Ash thought while taking a seat beside her. He looked over the numbers on the ruined papers; gathering together many bills, a few re-financing requests that were denied, and _finally_ his own, personal pile of fuck-ups. Hospital bills, travel money, tournament entry—loss money. All of that came from his mother's bank account; a bank account that until recently, was being fed a constant source of income from his long-gone father, who ever that was.

...except, when Ash turned eighteen, those checks stopped coming in, and it only took him a few moments to gather that information.

"Holy...mom, why didn't you tell me about any of this?" He asked, flipping through a folder that marked her current liabilities—Ash being the number one, but also because Delia hadn't worked in a few years, she had racked up living expenses on poke-cards and financial allowances; in other words, she was in debt worse than the Cerulean City gym was when Misty took it back over at the age of thirteen!

"What have you been doing with the tournament money I've been sending you?" Ash questioned, and Delia sighed, rubbing her temples while Ash tried to reorganize the salvageable paperwork.

"Paying for some long-standing hospital bills, and just normal living expenses." Delia said quietly. She worked a moderate, part time job at the gardening community; mostly because Pallet Town didn't offer much else; but also because Ash never wanted his mother to work more than she had too; but if she _wasn't_ paying the bills; she was _supposed to tell him_. That was the deal between the parent and child when the parent was single. They Helene each other; Ash and Delia had since he first left on his journey.

"Mom," Ash paused. "You can't lose the house." Ash gestured to the paperwork, when she pointed at the remaining balance she owed, then at the outstanding bills: totaling close to 100,000 thousand, Ash swallowed hard.

"I knew this would happen. We did good though, huh? Most single parents manage an apartment, or a shack—we had it good here, right?"

"Mom, don't talk like that." Ash whined, but his mother already gave up—first with the drinking, and now with the house.

"It's unfair, if he hadn't left we wouldn't be here; the checks stop coming in, and I can't find a job an—" She started sobbing, pulling at her face with her thin, pale fingers, and like the good son that he was, he closed his arms around her shoulders, and rest her head on his shoulder; the same way she used to when Ash would run home crying after a rather unpleasant bullying session with Gary.

"It'll be okay mom, we'll figure something out."

Because they were Ketchum's, they always did. A Ketchum couldn't be stopped; everyone knew that.

 **XOXs**

By 6:00pm, pikachu returned to the house, and Ash managed to convince his mother to finally lay down, and was throwing together some rice and chicken—the only thing he knew how to cook _well_.

"Cha..?" The mouse squeaking, coming through the kitchen window. It pawed at the drying documents Ash hung around the kitchen with string and watched as Ash's shoulders fell.

"It's nothing, buddy. Mom's just... having some problems." Ash explained quietly, rolling the rice into the chicken broth. Sitting at the table, the mouse yawned, and then hopped down, then back up to Ash's shoulder, nudging him a bit.

"Pika." The mouse complained, calling Ash a liar.

His lips pursed. "You're right. I am lying." he laughed. "But..."

He wasn't sure what to say, or even what he was feeling. Since Ash was a little boy, he didn't know who is father was; and frankly, he never _cared_. Delia mentioned him off and on, blurbs of life events where his father and him did something alike here and there, but Ash _never_ truly missed the man. It was hard to miss someone he never met before; besides, his mother was _everything_ he needed. She was his mother and his father for all of his childhood; she went to all of his sporting events, and still completed all the traditional motherly tasks. Ash didn't need a father, when he had his mother.

But...on days like this, and they weren't very often, he must admit, he wanted to find the old man just to punch him square in the face. Give him a piece of his mind—ask the geezer how he could leave someone as amazing as his mother and unborn child.

That's right.

His _blood_ father left before Ash was ever born; leaving a seventeen year old Delia alone in Pallet Town during the worst years of Kanto Region history. Somehow, she scraped together the money to rent the house they're staying in; and for the majority of Ash's baby life, she worked a full time job to pay rent until eventually buying the mortgage. When Ash was around five, the 'baby checks' as he lovingly called them, started coming in: the money his father was _required by law_ to pay his mother; but nothing more. Never a letter, or a note; a simple "Hi, how's it going". Whoever he was, he had no interest in Ash, and Ash had no interest in him.

That would probably never change.

...Except for when his mother was like this. Personally, Ash could never imagine losing someone like that; according to Delia, and some stories from Professor Oak, it was more than the story-book love at first sight, it was _perfection_ , twisted into the ropes of destiny, and they both fell _hard_. They spent close to a year together before his mom found out she was pregnant with Ash; an expression that resulted in the near-immediate termination of her relationship with the father. When she tried to find him again later; Delia discovered that not only had he lied about 'being together forever', he lied about his name, and address, and hometown—everything.

Bartholomew Ihsotas, for which Ash was given the middle name, did not truly exist _anywhere_ in this stratosphere; and she _knew_ , because whether she knew that Ash knew or not, at one point; she hired a private investigator to find him. Shortly after, that's when the baby checks started rolling in; unfortunately, he never made an appearance and the effort was fruitless.

Ash shifted the cooked rice and chicken onto a cool burner, and flicked the stove off before stumbling into the hallway.

He, Ash Ketchum, had exactly one picture of his father. A ripped and torn picture of Delia, and her group of friends when they were teenagers that hung beside the oldest picture of Ash and original companions. The man's face was hidden from the glare of the sun, aside from his large, dorky smile and dark hair; a feature Ash adopted. There were times when he would look up to his mother as a child, and watch her burst into tears over _a simple_ smile.

 _A normal childhood, a normal family, a happy family; deserved better, to be happy_. Were words Ash was familiarized with as a child—Delia said them nonstop during her worst depressions; she wanted Ash to always be happy, to have a normal, happy life, but what she was always blind to see; was that Ash _did_ have a normal life, all because of her amazing strength. It wasn't the easiest, but he had no regrets.

...then again, it wasn't like Ash had the love of his life abandon him, either.

At the thought, Ash turned from the picture, and started down the short hall of group photos; there were so many, he was surprised that Delia kept them all; but she kept everything. She was the 'perfect' doting mother. Scrapbooks of Ash's every waking moment from the time he was a baby, until he turned ten.

 _Don't forget to change your underwear and brush your teeth!_ Were the highlights of his childhood.

...How could Delia think she did a bad job?

Slowly, he traced his steps back into the kitchen with a silent, thoughtful pikachu perched on his shoulder; seeming to think the same thoughts as Ash while he gathered the simple dinner into a bowl, and collected a spoon for his mother to eat with. Passing endless photos, decorations, and tidied guests rooms, he approached his mother's bedroom at the end of the hall where he left her only a few minutes prior, and tapped on the door.

"Mmmm." His mother groaned from the bed, and a patient Ash nudged open the door with his foot, and approached her.

"I brought you some food, did you finish your water?" Ash wondered aloud while she forced herself to sit up. Her hair was even more of a mess now, sticking up in every direction. He chuckled to himself, and placed the bowl on her lap, over the blankets so it wouldn't burn her. Watching as the steam curled happily from the bowl around the air circling her fingers and directly into her nostrils she almost broke down in tears again.

"How did you turn out so good?" She whined, flicking the rice with her spoon, Ash felt sweat down his back while pikachu popped into the bed beside Delia to have ear-scratches.

"And you, too, pikachu, you're wonderful, too." She gushed and then Ash chuckled.

"We learned from the best." Ash assured his mother with a happy, earnest smile. "Now, why don't you get some rest, and I'll go down and talk to the insurance company tomorrow morning." In the same way she had done for him when he was a child, Ash fluffed her pillow, placed it behind her, and then brushed her hair from her face.

"Let me know if you need anything, I'll be down stairs for the rest of the evening." Ash told her, earning a nod, and then with pikachu at his heels once more, he left her to her recovery and thoughts.

As he made his way back down the stairs and into the living room, he thought bitterly about _so much for giving her good news_. Ash hated seeing her this way. It was torture. His mother was supposed to smile, and laugh, and spend forever plucking at a garden, not worrying about paying bills... However, if Ash won the Master's Cup, he could honestly say she wouldn't have to worry about them again. Being dubbed a Pokemon Master was almost like being dubbed a king; he would easily make six figures, and could take care of his mother for the rest of her life; something he, as the dutiful, slightly mama's boy that he was, would do in a heart beat.

...Something that his _father_ should have done. _Whoa, where did that aggression come from_? He wondered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He most have been more tired than he thought. Needing to get out of his own mind for a few minutes, he grabbed the remote control for the television, and clicked on the screen while flopping onto the red couch in the living room.

Everything would be better when he finally obtained his title, once and for all. Who needed a father, anyways?

 **Author's Note** :

Apart of me knows that if the characters could ever age, Misty would be that really sarcastic friend with a silver-tongue of embarrassment. I also imagine that Ash and misty, if they kept in contact and remained good friends, would have 'playful' 'teasing' (kind of flirting) banter.

Delia strikes me as the well meaning, but horrible financially stable mother. Plus, plot, sorry Delia; love ya. D:

Ishotas is Satoshi written backwards; because I'm unoriginal and couldn't think of a good last name. Bartholomew comes from the other ageless character of the 21st century: Bart Simpson. Ash is a little bit of a trouble maker, too; so I always thought the middle name was suiting.

Their ages follow the original manga here, since I'm pulling a large amount of resource from that; So Ash is twenty, Misty's twenty-two, and Brock is twenty-five, respectfully.

Legal-Eagle has been asking me about a fic about Ash's father for a very long time, and while I have full intention to make this a full fledged story, I have sooo many ideas about Ash's father, that I don't even know where to start; but I do know I want them all in the same fic. However, I argue that you can't have a story about who Ash's father is, without having a story about who _Delia_ is, and I have a million wonderful headcanons for that woman. The first and foremost is that Ketchum is not a married name. It is -her- last name.

Oh, I should also mention that for a lot of the story boards I've been making, the reason I haven't posted first chapters or etc, is because I don't want to get heavy into posting another story until Locked Away is finished; I'm not sure I've ever officially put that on any of the chapters thus far? So let me know which ones you think I should write first? I was kind of on the cop one, atm, but I'd like to know what you guys think.


	13. Chapter 13: the problem with bikes

**Pairing:** Ash/Misty, (sort of in a brOTP fashion)

 **Rated:** T

 **Genre:** Humor/Romance

 **Summary:** Where Ash destroys Misty's new bike, and the ordeal starts again. Story board?

 **Most likely story name:** More than a Bike.

 **XOXS**

When Misty stepped into the house, her hands were shaking. Her fiery red hair was pulled up into its classic side ponytail, but was messy where earlier that day, it was neat and pretty. Her yellow, leather vest was zipped to her collarbone, her sleeveless black top beneath it was marred with scorch marks, and her long, slightly flared blue jeans had a nice cut over the right kneecap; and to be honest, she looked pissed.

Not that _friendly,_ mature pissed that Misty oozed the day prior, or the controlled anger she developed back when she was an active player in Ash's life during Johto—no, it was that familiar, blood thirsty anger that clawed its way from the pit of her abysmal black heart, and up, through her eyes.

The door frame cracked where her darkly smudged fingers crushed the white, pliable wood, and the party fell to an eerie kind of silence, only amplified by the roaring thunderstorm outside. Worst of all, her eyes were trained on him, tearing into his very soul with hatred, and contempt far greater than any he had seen in all of his life.

His friends seemed to vanish as their eyes connected across from the room, his deep chocolate iris screamed for mercy, but her tidal-wave green vouched for violence. Once the air was still, everyone's attention drawn to the redheaded vixen at the door frame, her mouth finally moved.

"If the saying ' _you hurt the ones you love the mos_ t' is true..." Misty started aloud taking in a deep inflation, her tongue clucked against the top of her mouth, and her eyes flashed cold. Ash swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat and chill run down his spine as he took a single step backwards.

Then, as the thunder roared outside, her voice amplified the treason.

"Then I must be in head over heels in love, because I'm going to kill you Ash Ketchum!" She screamed, rattling every window in the house.

Somewhere in the mass of faces, Delia dropped her tea cup, and a very panicked, and terrified Ash threw down his gifts, turned, and _ran_ as fast as humanly possible.

 **Earlier...**

It didn't require much effort to convince Misty to attend the party following Ash's victory in his last league. The new champion had many reasons to celebrate, but first and foremost was his eighteenth birthday. After winning the championship title, his mother decided to roll one finally, huge birthday party into a celebration party; and invited everyone.

Free food, an endless amount of pokemon battlers, and Delia's cooking? No, Misty didn't require much convincing at all. Oh, and she wanted to see her old friends, of course.

Not that it had been well over four years since any of them last spoke—but, _whatever, right_? What was weird about that?

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same for their little group—Ash's companions, and the rivals he was on good terms with were in attendance, but it was Misty who was late; mostly because she couldn't close the gym until Friday after 5:00pm, and refused to take a train that would lead her into midnight at Pallet Town.

Rather, she took an early morning drive, which brought her into the midst of the party at noon—anyone who was coming would have been there by now, and when she walked in, she was met with the same excitement as she always had been.

Delia hugged her in that motherly fashion, Brock whined that she was growing up 'too' fast. May and Max welcomed her with generous hugs while Tracey asked how maril was doing, and Daisy, of course. In the living room, Gary pat her on the shoulder awkwardly reminiscing that he thought 'she wouldn't make it', and Ash gawked at her as he always did; but pikachu enjoyed hugs.

"What took you so long?"

"Oh, I don't know, I have a life." Misty mocked in a bitter tone that made Ash's face scrunch up, then a sharp grin tugged at his lips.

"It's good to see you haven't changed." Ash laughed, tucking his hands into his pocket while smiling pleasantly at her.

"Hey!" She barked. "I've changed a lot!" Her argument, however, was invalid and unnecessary, because Ash, as usual, was more interested in food and party streamers than he was in speaking with his long-lost friend. Not like hadn't spoke in four years or anything, and had a billion different topics to talk about— _nope_ , they didn't have any catching up to do at all.

Most of the party went on without a hitch, most of Ash's pallet town residents were gone by five; his rivals were gone by six, and that left for a more intimate collection of his close friends and companions, which made Misty more comfortable—if she had one more person approach her for a battle, only to immediately have said battle stolen by the newest-champion Ash Ketchum, she was going to crack necks.

 _Pleasantly_ crack necks.

Meeting Serena, Dawn, and Iris were the strangest events of the night. Iris was a shy, wild child Misty could relate to the most, and while they didn't agree on _a lot of things_ it beat hanging out with coordinators and 'models'. New to the group, was the young Bonnie, who was also mostly interested in battling, so the three created their small group, and spent the whole day swapping battle techniques. Iris and Misty even talked about the requirements and regulations of running a gym, whereas the other gym leaders present weren't so keen on _being_ gym leaders.

When Iris had finally grown tired of the party, she stalked off to a dark place in the shade, and the forever fluctuating Bonnie had wiggled her way back into Serena's good graces by talking about designs for new shows, and fawning over May and Dawn's expertise. Thus, Misty stood alone, watching her groups of _friends_ that she wasn't really a part of. The researchers, Gary, Tracey, Max, were gabbing about new breeds of pokemon; techniques, and regions. The chefs, consisting of Brock, Cilan, and Clemont were ecstatic over breeding, recipes, and _whatever else_ the three of them concocted in their minds—a force to be reckoned with, if Misty knew any better. Then there was the coordinators, well, mostly; Dawn, Serena, May, and Bonnie—who were great by society standards, but Misty wasn't _girly_ enough to hang onto their conversation; she almost didn't understand how May _was_ , but she understood that with May's personality, she could fit in almost anywhere.

With Iris gone, her only crutch, Misty felt like she was standing at the back of the party, watching everyone else mingle, and suddenly had the intense urge to get out of there. _The flee, or run, or vanish_. It wasn't like anyone would _really_ notice, and later when Brock scolded her for the escape, she could say she had 'urgent' business to attend to.

So, Misty used the free time, falling a quarter after seven, to escape back into the house, and away from all the noise, still tempted to leave. Typically, after years of maintaining appearances at league parties and running the water ballets and gym, she had a high tolerance for crowds—except for today. She couldn't help the strain on her body, mind, and soul.

She wasn't having fun.

This wasn't _fun_.

Misty felt like she was attending a party for a stranger, an acquaintance she met years ago, and was doing her obligatory duty of support and gift giving.

So, as all socially inadequate people did, they took the moment of silence to retreat; and regain their thoughts. In Misty's case, she had _many_ thoughts; most of which consisted of _I'm too old for this, and I've outgrown these people_. Because she had new friends; her sisters, bless their valley girl hearts, were her _friends_ now, she had Kasey, and Sakura, and on the rare occasion Duplica would stop in to say hi. That wasn't even including the gym leaders she be-friended over the years. Erica was a hoot, a carnivore, meat loving, crazy woman—but Misty could expect no less from the grass-specialty pokemon.

 _Eating salads is killing grass pokemon._ She argued, and Misty couldn't complain; she liked bacon as much as the next girl.

The last four years, as devoid of her childhood crush Ash, as they were, were not _bad_ years; she was successful, well trained, and building a life for herself outside of the bubble she was trapped in. It took time, and effort—but here she was. Returning to _this place_ was like getting hit in the gut several times, a painful reminder of forgotten friendships and passions.

As she wandered into the living room, a sigh escaped her breath, and in the corner of the living room, where the spin-able rocking chair sat; it creaked and moved instantly, blocking Misty from seeing who was sitting inside. Automatically, she assumed it _had_ to be Delia, kicking back from the extravagant party.

"Hey, what's up?" She asked aloud, feeling obligated to make some kind of statement. Misty hadn't actually talked with Ash's mother since she arrived, and yet she had gorged herself on her sweet tarts and apple fritters. A thank you, was more than likely in turn.

"Dinner was awesome; thanks!" Misty bellowed, but when she _still_ received no reply, she looked around the room. First, she wondered if she was only imagining that someone was sitting alone in the living room, and she had imagined the chair moving; and secondly, she wondered how Delia; who she could see _clearly_ standing outside on the balcony with Professor Oak and Professor Birch, could be also sitting in the living room, and suddenly, she felt really silly.

"Oh, I thought you were someone else." She mumbled, stepping into the living room, and striding across the floor to the back of the chair, where she looked over; expecting to see a straggler from previous in the day, but instead; she stared down at a nervous, cap-toting Ash Ketchum, who looked up at her with wide, yet panicked eyes.

"...Ash?" the words fell out of her lips in a confused stupor, and he stood up— _bolted_.

"Hey, Misty." He said, clearly agitated. Misty reeled backwards, taking a good look at the anxious man before her.

"...are... You okay?" She asked, gesturing to all of him. His hands were crossed uncomfortably, his mouth twitched, and his bottom lip was gnawed on until they bled. Missing from this scene, however, was Ash's first companion: pikachu.

"Where's pikachu?" Misty added, pursing her lips as she looked around.

"I'm fine." he said, though his tone was unconvincing. "Pikachu is outside with bunneary, and piplup, I think." he added, scratching at his chin while slowly tip-toeing away from the female while she wasn't watching him.

"Hey, where are you going?" She suddenly snapped, though not hostilly. Her attention thwarted, Ash yelped, slapped his hands to his sides, then sighed tiredly.

"I just wanted a break." Ash sighed. "The last five days have been social media and news media hell; then my mom had this huge idea to throw a _huge_ party here in Pallet town when I only wanted my friends around, and _I don't know_ , some sleep. Someone even ate all the sweet tarts!" he whined, much like a child and Misty had to clear her throat to prevent herself from laughing. _She ate all the sweet tarts_.

"That, really sucks. Being popular, and notarized. Winning: it's such a losers game." Misty mocked him, smacking her lips together while shaking her head. "Man, who wants to be successful, am I right?" She added in a sarcastic tone, to which a small smile finally found perch over his lips.

"Shut up." He laughed, shaking his head. Then, Misty folded her arms.

"I never knew Ash Ketchum to get tired of crowds—you should be loving this attention." She deduced, hands on her hips. "You've been trying to win a league for _years_ , and _now_ you're tired? C'mon, what's wrong with you?"

Then, a slow exhale escaped his lips, and he glanced away from her, back at the crowd of people, not only his friends that were outside in the back yard.

"I _would_ usually, but...I guess I thought that it would be different, you know?"

"No, I bask in my glory daily." She said, crossing her arms and blinking innocently at her. Again, a slightly agitated, more playful look peered back at her from his eyes.

"You're not helping." He announced, and she gave a soft shrug.

She cocked her head to one side, mock-insulted; "I didn't say I wanted to."

"You are so full of it." And then he stepped forward, mouth opened, and then closed it. "How long _has_ it been since we last spoke?" He asked, and Misty's eyes rolled away from him, thinking.

"Three years, 289 days, four hours, six minutes. Buuuuut, whose counting?" She rolled off the tongue so naturally Ash _almost_ believed her, until she followed with quirked eyebrows and and flat expression.

"Ha-ha." He mocked, rolling his eyes. The point was clear, however: _four years, roughly._ "I'm sorry I haven't called more."

Misty swallowed hard against the sudden lump that formed in her sliver-tongued sarcasm. They were dipping into a conversation zone that she wasn't mentally prepared to have with him. Her heartbeat rapidly, then slowed by sheer will and she finally exhaled; her first honest expression to the wide-eyed boy in front of her.

"Don't worry about it." She lied badly, waving her hand at him and this time taking her leave by walking past him. Honestly surprised by her reaction, he blinked at her, mouth ajar, and then turned.

"Is that _your bike_ parked outside?" He asked hopefully, and Misty's foot stopped at the door frame; her head titled low, and she turned to look over her shoulder at him to see an ear-to-ear grin. _Yes, it was_ she told him with her eyes.

"Can we go for a ride?" He asked stupidly, and a smirk fell over Misty's lips while she jingled keys from her back pocket.

"You're riding bitch." she said humorously, only to receive a dark scowl from Ash.

"Don't call it that!"

Misty's shoulders shrugged mockingly. "Then what else should I call it?" She mused sarcastically, heading out of the front door while tugging on a pair of black gloves with Ash on her heels. She continued, "That's what you're acting like right now; Mr. I'm-Upset-Because-Everyone-Is-Finally-Acknowledging-Me."

"You can be so..." Ash started, but stabilized his repertoire when Misty guided him to her _baby_.

A handsome, Silph Co. product of last year, rebuilt and exquisitely maintained from handles to rear-wheel. A sports motorcycle with a sleek, black engine coated by a red chrome finish, black tires, black steel frame, and the beautiful, Misty Waterflower touch, a painted gyarados on the side.

Naturally, Misty threw one leg over the harness, settled into the seat, and gripped the handlebars with an overly excited-two-year-old grin over her features.

"It's nice isn't it?" She mused happily, but not wanting to give her the affection, he forced his own excitement from the moment he saw the _vroom vroom_ vehicle, and shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's an improvement from what I did to your last bike." he offered stoically while approaching her. Once there, her left hand shot from the handles, to his collar where she looked at him with dark eyes.

"If you damage _this bike_ , I will not follow you. I will take the payments from your limbs."

A cold chill ran down his spine and Ash put his arms up. "Don't worry, pikachu isn't even with me right now. How could I _possibly_ damage this one?" He laughed nervously, to which she released him, and nuzzled forward so he had room on the back to sit.

"Sorry it's a little awkward." She said while placing the keys into the ignition, then joked; "We just have to pretend to like each other for a little while."

Behind her, Ash stumbled to perch himself on the seat, nearly fell over once, and then finally settled awkwardly at her waist, and sat his hands on _his_ jeans. There was no way he was touching her.

"I _do_ like you." He said without a thought, wondering where he was supposed to hold on, which caused Misty to stumble with a loud sigh. He could be so dense.

"It was satire." Misty mused, jerking his arms that were awkwardly doting at his thighs which bumped against her legs, and forced them to her hips. "I'm not saying you should hold on, but you should probably _hold on_." Misty advised him, removing the kickstand while rolling slowly forward. Since Delia happily never owned a car, which was probably where Ash's fascination with them came from, she had no use for a drive way, so Misty's bike was parked at the front of the house, on the street.

"Err.." Ash blushed, touching her hips in a manner that seems so blatantly inappropriate. Misty's eyes rolled.

"I told you it was awkward." she said. "Be weird all you want, but _don't fall off._ " Misty warned him, surprised that she, herself was acting so calm when every nerve in her body was on fire and her heart was beating frantically.

When the engine turned over, and Misty kicked forward before catching the gear with a loud, roar, the raged forward, and Ash's arms went from frantically worried about her personal space to; _oh dear god, is it supposed to go so fast?!_

"Shouldn't we have helmets?!" Ash yelled as he saw over his shoulder his very house zoom past them, as well as his hat, which blew off in the first few seconds. Misty's shrill laughter answered him, like a child's first time hearing of Santa Claus, she was overwhelmingly happy to be on the road.

"No!" She screamed with glee. "If we were going on a long trip, _usually_ , but right now; just enjoy the ride and the wind in your hair!" Misty yelled, revving up the engine and taking a sharp, professionally handled turn into Route One's service road.

Ash tried to contain his own excitement, which was mixed with fear. Where he was at a comfortable distance originally from the sarcastic redhead, his entire body nearly engulfed hers. His legs were likely uncomfortably close to hers while his entire center pressed against her back, and his chin was almost directly on her shoulder, trying to take in the speed. Her back was arched, eagerly and Ash was clinging on for life.

"Relax!" She screamed, watching pidgey fly from the trees above.

As the momentum settled, and the flying trees mellowed into a comfortable rhythm, his body limped, and he sat back to catch the embodiment of wind against his face. It wasn't an uncomfortable speed, it was more like riding on the back of charizard or a rapidash, but the ride was smoother, more exhilarating.

"Go faster!" Ash demanded, lips pursed and shouting in her ear. She flinched.

"No way!" Misty laughed. "It's your first time."

"So?" He challenged her, and if she could have turned to look at him cock-eyed she would have!

"So! If you _fall off,_ I don't want your mom mad at me!"

"I'm not going to fall off!" He indicated by wiggling his arms against her stomach and then latched his hands against his forearms.

"Go faster!" He demanded once more, and a flushed Misty peered ahead, trying to focus on _driving_ rather than how close he was to her at that very moment. She slipped into the next gear, and with a disturbing loud rumble, they kicked up even more dust, and peeled into the transport sector outside of Viridian City, and weaved in and out of the near-city traffic.

"When did they build highways?" Ash asked, while Misty offered a shrug, placing a rather tricky maneuver between two speeding cars.

"They've always been here! They've just been improved. We never knew about them because we stuck to trainer routes our whole lives." Misty explained, switching lanes and kicking into a higher speed.

Gusts of wind forced Ash's eyes closed, which only proved for an euphoric sensation while he pressed his forehead against her shoulder, and took in the breeze. After awhile, the vibrations numbed him, and he was left with nothing more than speed, and the gushing of freedom. Noticing this reaction; the same one she had so many years ago her first time riding, she grinned and peeled into the interstate that would round off into Viridian City.

 **XOXS**

Ash was impossible to handle. When they crossed Viridian City; he suddenly felt like a tourist in his own home region; he wanted ice cream, and fast food, pokemon gear, and adventures. He was like a little kid, and Misty was _okay_ with going along with it all; well, she was actually ecstatic to watch the formerly depressed Ketchum bounce back so quickly,running back to all of his _favorite_ places; which were mostly poke-gear shops, and food places; but she couldn't complain, and she wasn't going to tell him that she was having fun. _Because she liked those too._

At a quarter to nine, Misty finally called out the ropes.

"Ash, we need to go back." She told him, slamming closed the door he was at.

"One more...?" He tried, holding up a finger.

"No!" she shrieked. "You have a problem!" Misty gasped, grabbing his arm and yanking him away from the bustling Viridian City food market.

"I don't have a problem." He gushed, but his pupils were dilated, the tell-tale sign of too much excitement for one day. Misty shook her head, and reefed him back to the motorcycle which was parked outside of the market, and Ash had a _crazy_ idea formulate in his brain.

"Do you think I could drive?"

"Not even over my dead body." Misty mumbled quickly, taking a seat. Ash didn't follow.

"Please?"

"You don't have a license!" Misty gasped, whipping her hair at him. Ash fumbled a little, knew she was right, and climbed on behind her only seconds later.

As she started back down the path to Pallet Town, which if they were lucky would only take thirty minutes via the service route; Ash now very comfortably wrapped his arms around her waist. The closeness unfortunately came with the territory, and so long as he looked at it in that light, it wasn't _as weird._

"This was fun." Ash announced, to which Misty exhaled politely. As they passed the intersection signs Ash pointed to the passing sign that read "Route One" with an arrow, and nearly caused them to crash.

"Go right! Let's take the scenic route."

"I am not driving a loud motorcycle through Route One!" Misty yelped, and Ash's face scrunched up.

"It's not i _llegal_ , and besides, people do _worse than that_ , Mist; don't be a party pooper." Ash nudged her, finally brave enough to converse in their playful, bantering ways.

"Alright, but if we get attacked by spearows, I'm leaving you there." She warned him, taking the turn off into the sightless route.

 **XOXs**

More than halfway through, Ash demanded that they stop; frantically threw his arms about in every which direction, to which Misty thought Ash was hurt, or something was up ahead—but when she came to a quick stop, they jerked forward; and Ash pointed into the forest path, and inhaled.

"Just a minute." He mused, jumped off like a professional now, and taking off into the forest.

Dark, quiet, alone; Misty's emotions ran high with a jerk. "Where are you going?!" She shouted, but he never replied, instead she anxiously peeled herself off the bike, and while straightening out her clothes, she reminded herself inwardly that she was a _very_ tough trainer, and shouldn't be scared of dark, damning forests; just because Ash ran off into one!

When her foot cracked the first twig off the path with her boot; Ash returned with ghost-like speed, and nearly knocked her over in fright.

"Ash! Don't do that!" She shouted, pushing him hard. Ash chuckled, and rubbed the back of his neck. His hair was a mess; and so was hers.

"Sorry." he mused, then walked past her, ruining what could have been a potential _romantic_ moment; Misty's face paled—not that she was thinking of that, or anything!

"What were you doing back there?" Misty questioned aloud, following him back to the bike. He sat before her for the first time that night, and didn't make direct eye contact when he answered.

"Nothing." he said calmly. "I was just checking."  
"Checking for what?" She snarled, a bit upset to have stopped for _clearly_ nothing. She sat in front of him, and while his hands wrapped around her waist for what felt like the millionth time that night, it seemed softer this time.

"Oh... uh, that was where you pulled me out of the river." he explained while Misty drove forward, stiff as a board—she hadn't even recalled herself! How stupid!

 **XOXs**

When they checked into Pallet Town, Misty pressed a button on the panel of the bike, that forced the loud, blaring sound of the vehicle to silence itself, but forced the vehicle into a comfortable stall and Ash's mouth fell open.

"You could do that all night?"

"Makes it go slower." Misty explained, then pursed her lips. "And it _is_ a Silph Co electrical production; it can do quite a bit, actually." Indicating that the bike, like most vehicles in this society, also ran on electricity, rather than fossil fuel and gasoline.

Excitement dying down, and nerves settling; Ash sighed awkwardly. "We've been gone for awhile, everyone is going to wonder why..." He acknowledged, suddenly very thankful that the bike could be quieted, so his mother wouldn't see _him_ on it. Eighteen or not, she would freak out.

"Just tell them the truth when you get back then." Misty explained. "You felt overwhelmed, it's a natural reaction."  
"You said I was being a b-"  
"I was clearly joking." She added, rolling down the hill slowly, she used the momentum of the hill outside of his house to veer beside the white picket fence, and throw down the kick stand before removing the keys.

"Oh." Ash said aloud, having not realized before. The bike was off, the journey was over, and the adventure ended.

Yet, here they sat, very slowly Ash's arms unlaced around her waist, finding themselves nearly hooked on her hips when he tried to remove himself from the bike, but luckily; she had the mental strength to clear her throat, and practically leap off, and away from _him_.

Ash watched her collect herself, watched as she pulled down her clean, yellow vest and black undershirt, and straighten her hair. Over head, clouds tinted the starry sky, and with the luminescent glow of the living room window peering out, where Ash could see _only_ his friends waiting inside, having cake, and sharing stories, he stared at Misty instead, who was fascinated with _anything_ else that wasn't him.

"Misty." he called to her, earning her scarlet gaze. "Are we okay?" he asked, watching the muscles of her face change from placid to shocked sincerity, then of sudden mockery.

"Depends on how much longer you sit on that thing." She gestured to the bike, where he was still clearly straddling it—whether he realized or not. Embarrassed, he jumped onto the dirt below, and ran his fingers through his hair while Misty came up beside him, and nudged him in the shoulder.

"C'mon, let's go face your mom's wrath. You're taking all the blame for this by the way." Misty added nonchalantly, shoulders high. Ash thought to follow after her, back into the brightly illuminated crevice of his friends and family, but instead, he grabbed her upper arm, and reefed her back to him. The _second_ time that night her face was wretched with complete shock and confusion.

"What are you-" She started, though her statement was cut off loosely when Ash planted a fickle kiss onto her left cheek; leaving a lingering, warm sensation and her eyes wide open.

"That was a fun _date_!" he exclaimed playfully, _finally_ getting her back for all the sarcastic remarks while he watched Misty's face turn several shades darker. Her mouth fell open and her eyes narrowed to slits while he skipped away from her.

Only, if she had been paying attention to _anything_ other than _him, his lips, and his stupid shit-eating grin_ , she might have noticed her keys were missing.

 **Author's Note:**

" **Pokefan** " an anon reviewer (from awhile ago, sorry this took so long) wanted something like "A day in the life" by StrawberryTruffle, which is to my understanding of the concept: the focus on one 'subject' or 'idea' as the whole theme of the story. Mine was originally going to be "Swimming shorts and trinkets", but then I thought about bikes and I was like... "Why not?" I'll probably write both, but I wanted to do this one first. (This one wasn't so much about the fixation of one object, was it? That's why I have to try again ahahahah)

I wanted to post _something_ today, but nothing else was quite done yet, so this is it.

Lots of people's aesthetic is that Ash will have a motorcycle when he's older—I honestly think if that boy goes near any mode of transportation, it will blow up. On the other hand, I always imagined bike-loving Misty would turn into a motorcycle loving Misty.

I decided to leave -how- he damaged the bike up in the air for now. XD (sorry) Tell me what you think happened? REALLY, TELL ME. I WANT TO KNOW. (I want to laugh. The person who makes me laugh the most gets a cookie, or something. )


	14. Chapter 14: Misty's parents

**Pairing** : Ash/Misty

 **Genre:** Drama/Romance

 **Rated:** T

 **Summary:** In which Ash learns about Misty's parents.

 **XOX**

Misty was a hopeless romantic.

A _hopeless romantic_. She liked letters, and phone calls. She liked romantic dates, long strolls through the park, or forest, or beach. She enjoyed surprises and flowers, gifts and music, long nights, and precious moments.

Misty was the living reincarnation of all things romance: she had a collection of the _greatest_ romance novelist in the pokemon league, she attended a seminar for the music of _love_ , was a supporter of every romantic _chick flick_ and cliches. Her personal favorite was _love at first sight_ and long-lost childhood sweethearts.

Every year her list grew longer, she developed more ideas, more infatuations, and more relationships _with_ romance than she would ever willingly admit to her. _The culture of love_ was her forte, and she basked in the glorious rays of romanticism, candles, and all things _lovey-dovey_.

So _obviously_ , that meant she must have been the perfect girlfriend, too, right? Long kisses under the moonlight, detailed, extravagant adventures of star-crossed lovers, dancing in the rain... _you know_ , cute-sy stuff that she fawned over.

The problem with Misty was, even though she loved all of these things; she was still...

 _"I love you." S_ lipped out in the middle of an odd conversation, following a brief spar that ended in a trip to the burger joint down the street. When the careless words slipped out of Ash's mouth in more of a mocking tone, less of a devote confession; her face turned pale. Not _red_ like they expressed in those books that she read where the hero suddenly realizes he's loved his best friend all along—then it was followed by an exorcist color of green.

And well, maybe it was because they were in the middle of a busy street, or that his friends were there; or maybe it was because _he_ was the one saying it: but..

She punched him in the chest. Knocked him down mostly from the shock of being assaulted after such a phrase; and also because Ash had no clue what he had just done; _or said_. Afterwards she ran, _literally_ sprinted away from the group where she locked herself in her gym and refused to speak to anyone for three hours.

 _"C'mon, it's not that weird, is it!?" Ash whined, knocking his head against her bedroom door again. His friends had since abandoned ship for some ice cream and popcorn, but he was far from giving up. Ash had a few more hours in him, at least._

 _"It's weird!"_

 _"You're the one who always told me that romantic crap was really important!"_

 _"It is!"_

 _"Then what's the problem!?"_

 _"You're the problem!"_

 _Ash banged his head not-so-subtly against her door again and let out a loud, frustrated growl before crawling to his feet and following after Brock and Tracey who were in town, too._

She was _awkward_.

The first time he tried to kiss her in public, she shoved the remainder of a fruit pie in his face. The second time she awkwardly placed maril against his lips; and the third time she collapsed. No, she didn't _faint_ , she essentially melted in a heated pile of her own embarrassment, and sunk to her knees, leaving Ash puckering against a gust of wind. She wasn't shy; _far from it_ , she was just... odd in public settings.

But no, he couldn't _ask_ her about it, because she would deny that she _acted_ in such a way until she was red in the face and yelling.

 _I don't avoid you!_

 _I do not dodge intimacy_.

 _What do you mean by that? You're the one bad at romance, I'm the queen of romance_!

Her excuses were relentless, and often blind to her own misgivings. By the time Ash realized she had intimacy issues, he was already knees deep in the wonderful world of Misty Waterflower. It was how he knew about her being a _hopeless_ romantic from the start.

After they started dating, she always made grand plans of adventure, a romantic get-away, that were mostly subdued the very moment Ash agreed to them.

 _But we can't, I have to run the gym that week._

 _Oh... but Daisy will be in town._

 _Isn't your mom going to be there?_

If it wasn't someone else flaking into their plans, it was A _sh's fault_ , of course. Sometimes her job would get in the way, but _mostly_ Ash would give her what she described as _a look_ and she would fall apart and think every plan she had was _stupid_ and _unnecessary_ and convince herself that he didn't want to go.

Misty _also_ didn't stroll. She jogged, or trot; occasionally she _ran_ and told Ash she was walking, but clearly, she didn't know what walking was!

 _It just takes so long_.

 _Are we there yet_?

When _Ash_ tried to be romantic, it was like getting shot in the foot repeatedly, or stepping on a beedrill in the middle of the night, or being drowned by a tentacruel. He already wasn't very good at it _._ So because she was as oblivious to romance as Ash was to females until puberty, things were... _always challenging._

 _Ash, what is that?_ She would ask him when he would surprise her with a gift.

 _You brought flowers on a boat... where the only source of available water...is salt water?_

 _Where did you get the idea to leave notes everywhere?_

 _Really? In the shower? There's soap scum!_

There was no easy way to say that Misty Waterflower was a pain. An oblivious, red-haired, easily angered; _pain_.

Which lead him to the next observation. _She was easily embarrassed_. And an easily embarrassed Misty was an aggressive Misty.

 _"It was supposed to be a surprise!" Ash whined dodging the pillow she tossed at him. Her face was flushed,_

 _"Leave me here to die." She groaned, hiding beneath her covers._

 _"I didn't know you were going to show up like_ that. _.. Ahh, Misty, I'm s-"_

 _"Leave!" She bellowed throwing her hand out of her covers to point to the door, leaving Ash to scamper as quickly as possible to the exit, huffing for dear life._

Surprises were better left planned. They had a special way of going awry when Ash planned events, to the point where she _questioned_ him about all events she was sporadically invited to.

The Waterflower also refused to make plans herself. She said it was best to be spontaneous, because if someone _hoped_ too much, they would only be let down; which meant Ash did most of the planning... _all of the planning_. What little there was of it. Misty popped in whenever she felt like it, sometimes during crucial events in his life; like his mother's house at the end of every league, or _just because_ she felt like it.

Letters? Misty was all about phone calls; the shorter the better. She _loved_ hearing from him, but their conversations were like business protocol, followed by a promise to see him soon; if he sent a letter, she sent a montage of pictures.

She was always _too busy_ to sit and write a letter; and he should just call.

 _No_ for someone who was a hopeless romantic; she was the living embodiment of everything anti-romantic.

 _Kissing in the rain?_ _No,_ she didn't want to catch a cold.

 _Spontaneous adventures_? Nada, she would rather catch up on paperwork for the gym and watch the battle network with him on the couch.

Slow dances under the light of the moon, poetry, music; she never influenced any of them.

Simply put, for someone who lived, breathed, and adored the culture of love, she represented _nothing_ of it.

She got angry when embarrassed, her flustered personality lead to many accidental bruising; her uncanny personality made romantic _dates_ , _meals_ , _walks_ clearly impossible, and she refused public displays of affection. Even private displays of affection were sometimes nerve crippling; sometimes to the point of kicking Ash off her bed, out of her room, and depending on the infraction, she would ban him from the gym.

Misty was an oxymoron, a living paradox of a human being.

Yet, more times than not they would sit together; Ash nearly snoozing on the couch with one arm draped around Misty's shoulders while she tentatively stared at a television screen with her knees tucked to her chest under a shared blanket, and his other arm resting on Pikachu's back, who always sat beside the two of them.

 _"I'll never let go..." echoed from the screen, and when Misty started sniffling, Ash squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that she already thought he was asleep._

 _"It's so sad!" Misty whined, threw her hand backwards, abruptly hitting him against the chest, waking him up with a start. He glared daggers at the back of her head while she leaned forward, and then threw herself backwards, tucking her arms under the blanket like a child with tears in her eyes._

 _It was a movie they watched together a million times; that she, herself, watched a billion times, and yet the scene where Jack dies still made her cry, made her shoulders shake, her lip quiver, and her entire body quake._

Misty was nothing if not passionate.

 _By the time the credits rolled, she was the one who had passed out, indiscreetly drooling on Ash's chest and he was left to watch the end of the movie by himself again. Clarifying that she would never let go, that she did so only seconds after Jack died, and didn't share the stupid door with him._

 _Misty's greatest complaint when she woke up the next morning. The conversation would start all the same: "You know, there was plenty of room for Jack on that stupid door. If I had been the one there, you wouldn't have died."_

 _And then she would continue on and on about how the producers messed up on a lot of things; missed the point; while Ash continuously reminded her that it was just a movie, she would refuse to listen and then criticize the direction of the movie: After all, she was an expert on the subject. Romance, that is._

Sometimes, when Ash was alone, he wondered if Misty even _knew_ how she reacted to his advances. She never gave any cues that she recognized her behavior as anything but normal, and the few times she _did_ give in, she was usually giddy, or, well, intoxicated somewhat.

Brock described it as _tense_ ; Misty was tense because she didn't see Ash that much, she didn't have time to get used to him because he wasn't around often; so when he was, she was _afraid_ to get close. Ash didn't understand that, so Brock reminded him that Misty was _a special flower_ , _a delicate flower_. So long as she wasn't angry, of course. If she was, then she was more like a tree.

...If trees could smash things with their fists.

So today, on a day much like any other day; Ash would finally approach her about these _issues,_ about her _tension_ about her... _odd_ behavior _._

 _A surprise visit_. One that he didn't call her for; and went against the grain he was subdued for the last two years. With holidays pressing, the league closed the gyms. Ash had no where else to be but with Misty; especially since Delia was still vacationing with Professor Oak in the Orange Islands; so when Pokemon Day rolled around, his first stop was the Cerulean City Gym.

"Misty?" Ash called to her while stepping into the gym as natural as his own house. He instinctively tossed his bag behind the welcoming desk, and marched off to the next room where he saw the pool, non to surprising, empty.

Pikachu broke away from Ash's arm with the intention to visit the pokemon bay, where Misty's maril was, as well as the rest of her growing pokemon: Pysduck, mostly. For some _odd_ reason, pikachu enjoyed being around the duck about as much as he originally liked being around togepi. Ash could never understand, but he wasn't opposed to it.

After all, he _did_ want some privacy, and pikachu probably knew that.

When she didn't reply right away, Ash pursed his lips, rocking back and forth on the balls of his heels, and muttered a quiet _okay_ before adventuring forward. He passed the first pool, then the training area, and finally crossed the cat walk into the living area of the gym; where _all_ of the lights were turned off. At first, he suspected she wasn't home; off somewhere partying with her sisters; or participating in some league match.

Then, he heard a brief sniffling from the living room; and his breath caught in his throat. Misty wasn't a big crier. She cried only under _specific_ situations; primarily sappy romance movies, and goodbyes. Her tears were special, _rare_ , and so hearing them led him to believe she was watching _or reading_ an exceptionally good book. And he might have convinced himself, if all of the lights weren't turned off except for a dim light beside the green couch where she sat, and the television was black.

Reading was still an option—but as Misty so clearly stated: she never read in dim light, _it was bad for her eyes_ , and as a pokemon trainer, she needed her perfect eyesight.

Reading was out.

Ash didn't make a peep when he turned the corner to see her sitting on the couch, rubbing her temples with thin fingers, and shoulders shuddering with each breath. She hiccuped, though not intentionally and then hung her head before curling forward; staring down at her lap.

He tried to form words, but his brain meshed together so messily, the only sound he could manage was a strangled one that she couldn't hear. Her head fell backwards, cracking and popping in a battle-ish way, and she groaned before shaking her head, and releasing a pained, sorrowful sigh.

He was standing above the couch, garnering a brief view of the reason she was crying when words finally formed.

"...Misty?" His voice in the darkness startled her, and she not _only_ flew to her feet, but she tossed whatever she was looking at across the room and spun to face him.

"Ash!" She gasped, wiping her tears away with the best of her ability, trying to prevent the belief that she was crying. "What are you doing here?" She questioned, inhaling sharp and turning away from him to gather herself, _become presentable_. She was still wearing her pajamas; the red, lose fitting pants, and a long-discarded black tee-shirt he left at her house.

"...League is closed for holidays..." Ash hummed, glancing at her back, then at the _photo_ album that she discarded lividly. Then the questions spilled out with concern. "Why are you crying? Are you okay? Did something happen."

"I'm fine." She snapped a little too quickly, holding up her hand to wave him down.

"You don't look _fine_." Ash pressed, circling around her couch and approaching the book she tossed away. "Why are you sitting alone in the dark reading...?" He bent to grab the album, only to have it viciously snapped from his fingers, and then was faced with an assertive Misty.

"I said I'm _fine_." She growled, meeting his worried gaze with a glare of utmost frustration. Without passing a word, she turned from him, tucked the album closed, clicked the wrap closed, and stalked off to her bedroom, having recovered sometime in the distance from there, back to seeing Ash.

"Sorry about that, I haven't even changed out of my pajamas yet." She laughed hoarsely, rubbing the back of her neck as if nothing happened. Even her face seemed naturally flushed, her puffy eyes were no longer swollen, and if he couldn't see the veins in the white of her eyes, he might have thought he imagined the whole thing.

Still, her nonchalant behavior disturbed him. Catching onto the awkwardness of his gaze, Misty shrugged gently.

"How's the league going? Have you caught any cool pokemon?" She asked, spinning on her heels to click on the main light, shining brightness into her cold persona while she smiled warmly at him. He felt sick to his stomach, _disturbed_.

"What's wrong with you?" Slipped out uncanny, and Misty's back straightened, clearly insulted.

"What's wrong with _me_?" She echoed in clear disdain, pointing at her self with a scoff of disbelief. Her eyebrows narrowed dangerously, and her lips fell into a scowl. "What's wrong with _you_?" Ash's brain caught up with his words and he shook his head. "I don't mean like that; just..." He paused, taking a step closer to her. "...Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't crying." She denied, looking away from him stubbornly.

"You were, too." A disgruntled Ash argued.

"Pfft, why would I be crying?" She mocked, blowing a strand of hair from her face which was still a mess around her face, rather than being tied up.

"I don't know!" Ash gasped. "That's why I asked."

"Well, I wasn't, so don't worry about it. Anyways, why don't we-"

"I'm not stupid, _Misty_ , what's _wrong_?" Ash very seldom allowed anger to slip into their conversations. More times than not, he would be frustrated, or annoyed with her behavior, but _anger_ was a rare occurrence. However, right now he felt a great deal of it meshing into his deeply rooted concern for one of his oldest friends.

"It was just..." she heaved a heavy sigh. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"You don't want to talk about anything!" he snapped, throwing his arms out for emphasis. Misty took a step back in surprise. "You just shut down when it's about _you_!" he accused suddenly and an offended Misty held her hand to her chest, then folded her arms defensively.

"I-I don't."

"You do!" He approached her, gripped her arms with his hands and forced her eyes on his own. Her green eyes were always much brighter after a few years, something about the way the red displayed the green; and while he _loved_ it, he hated knowing the reason behind it.

She pursed her lips, and her eyes shifted away from his. Disillusioned, her eyelids closed halfway, and Ash released her with a frustrated sigh.

"Please?" Ash questioned, boggled by her sense of entitlement and stubbornness, that slowly crumbled with his final request.

Her eyebrows knit together; clearing disgruntled with having to _share_ her emotions; but of course, shouldn't she have been used to that? At least with Ash. When they were kids, it was easy, she could mask her weird feelings with 'redhead' anger, and people didn't bat an eye, up until this point; Ash accepted her oddity as a quirk, but now, when expression read so pained, he refused to back down.

"It's stupid, really." Misty started, shifting her weight while sympathy crossed over Ash's eyes. Misty turned away from him with a frustrated sigh, and went to retrieve the item of her tears and shoved it at Ash before slumping onto her couch, defeated.

Even when he was genuinely concerned, she _hated_ losing, and such frustration was displayed by the way she knotted strands of her hair between her fingers, and he clawed at the book.

Ash didn't speak when he first opened it to the image of a family portrait, one of Misty, her three sisters; and her parents. A rather charming father with dark brown hair, and a woman that shared a _painfully_ identical resemblance to Misty smiled back at him. Misty was only a baby in the picture of them, but he carefully wondered why such an image wasn't on the wall. His mother had _all_ of their family portraits on the wall; even if it was just the two of them. He flipped the next page, then the next, reliving moments from Misty's childhood; watching as she grew until finally the memories ended; the pages were empty, and the smiles and laughter came to an abrupt stop.

"Where's the rest of it?" Ash asked, turning at her. In the ten minutes it took him to look at each page, chuckle here and there, she calmed down into a motionless scowl, and that distant, pained expression featured over her face.

"That's all of it." Misty elaborated, clicking her nails against her arms. Ash approached, flopped onto the couch beside her while flipping back to _personal_ favorites; especially the ones with a _wild_ Misty acting inappropriately in public; typically throwing mud at other kids faces, or having a tantrum in public.

"How old were you in this photo?" Ash asked with a goofy, unaware, grin on his face while he pointed to an image of a child-shaped Misty holding a flopping goldeen on a hook, and posing with a grin. Misty huffed.

"I don't know... five?" She guessed, looking away from him with a scowl. Ash pointed to the next picture; one where she was dressed up with her sisters; she was the little mermaid at the center, scowling, frustrated, and refusing to smile for the picture, while her sisters were an assortment of popular princesses. He snickered.

"What about this one?"  
"Could you stop?!" She snapped, jerking the album from his hands and closing the book with a snap. Ash grimaced.

"Sorry... I was just..." _trying to cheer you up_ he added with a physical eye-roll, and a mental groan. Frustrated by her lack of response, or rather, out of character response to his questions, he exhaled and tried again.

"Okay, so you were looking at a photo album; why were you crying?" He faced her, looking past the bill of his hat to her face where she stared down at her lap. He wasn't positive, but the way her nose scrunched, and her mouth twitched, he almost thought she was going to start crying _again._ When a sharp inhaled followed a shaky breath, he knew otherwise.

 _Tougher than nails_ came to mind. Yet, she still didn't answer him; and after a five minute intermission, he was determined to let it go, change the subject, and order some kind of take out. If Ash had mastered anything in their short ranging relationship, it was the ability to cheer her up—which was also the main reason most of their nights landed them on the couch, watching movies, and eating ramen. She was a temperamental person, and where she didn't like intimate contact on most occasions; she liked _physical_ contact. Being near him, having something to hold on to.

Misty turned to the last page of the album, one where Misty was spotted sitting a bench outside of her house, staring longingly at her sisters who played at the tire swing without her; and an unsure sigh formed.

"..This..ahh." Ash was about to speak, prepared to cheer her on, but the way her eyebrows pressed together, he thought better of it. She was struggling. "It's Daisy's birthday today." She elaborated, as if Ash would understand that.

"...Daisy's birthday?"

"When Daisy turned ten, they abandoned the gym. One night they were just... _gone_." She looked up at him finally, a deep frustration pinging in her eyes. "I was almost six at the time, my sisters were convinced it was my fault they left; you know, because I was a bit of a brat growing up. They used to be really mean about it.." She managed, eyes turning back to the picture below; the one where Misty was sitting on a bench. She then traced the outline of a photo of her father carrying her over his shoulders, and her mom laughing carelessly beside them.

"Daisy took over the gym, and we were left alone to fend for ourselves... just little kids—can you believe that?" Her voice cracked and her nails claws the image of her parents, upset. Ash's arms slouched in sympathy, looking forward at the coffee table, he felt like his heart was ripped out for her.

"Oh... wow, Misty. I'm sorry, I didn't know." He clarified, glancing away from her shamefully while she shrugged.

"It was a long time ago, not like it matters now." She admit, slamming the book closed once more, and placing it down onto the coffee table with a thump. She couldn't look at Ash when she leaned back and raised her shoulders hopelessly.

"Have you seen them since?" Ash questioned, glancing sideways at her. Her head shook subtly.

"No." She exhaled. "Not since I was five—god, that was almost fifteen years ago now." Her tongue clucked at the top of her mouth and she crossed her arms, feeling pathetic for letting it stillget to her.

"..Why did they leave?"

"I don't know."

"You all look so happy in the photos..."

"We were."

Desperation crossed into his confused voice. "Why would they leave the four of you?"

A troubled smirk tugged at her lips and she scoffed in spite of herself. "...Do you think I would still sit here in the dark if I knew the answer to that question?"

She immediately followed with: "People around us said it was because they couldn't handle the pressure of running a gym, they freaked out at the sudden, inexplicable responsibility, and ran for the hills..." Misty inhaled. "I think it was because they finally settled down, and it wasn't what they expected—a place to live, _family_ , _kids_ , we weren't what they wanted...and they split."  
Suddenly very concerned with the life outside of those pictures, Ash cleared his throat awkwardly: "...Did they... you know, fight a lot?"

"Never." Misty's jaw rolled as she licked her lips in defeat. "The perfect relationship through and through; My mother was... and my dad was..." She couldn't form the words, they were like needles in her flesh.

"They used to tell us bedtime stories of great adventures to other regions; _other league_ s, how wonderful their life used to be together...but their voices would always crack when they would talk about the gym—what their life was like _back then_. I imagine they went off to some foreign country and are still living a responsibility free life style far away, pretending like they didn't leave a bunch of little girls all alone in the middle of the friggin world to-" While her vicious words poured out of her mouth, she tugged at the ends of the photo album, tempted to rip it into pieces where it laid, when Ash did the _responsible_ boyfriendthing to do, and tucked two very warm arms around her waist, and pressed his chin against the top of her head.

"I'm sorry." he said absently into her hair, kissing her scalp in the same fashion his mother used to when he was upset as a child.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault my parents sucked." Misty grimaced, shrugging away from him. The last thing she wanted was to be touched, but Ash held her firmly, anyways.

"I get that."

"What are you talking about? Your mom is awesome."

"I know, but she didn't miraculously conceive me, you know."

"I'm surprised you even know what that means." She mocked him, rolling her eyes while he glared down at her, huffed, and continued.

"I mean, I didn't know my dad, so...I guess it's different. But I get it...sort of." Ash elaborated while Misty expressed a sweet sigh, and nuzzled into his chest, wrapping her arms against the warmth of their bodies and pursed her lips.

"I guess so."

A pause.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

Misty chuckled. "I guess it never came up...besides, I didn't really know how" She paused, taking on a mocking tone of herself. " _Hi, my name is Misty and I have a lot of trust issues because my parents ditched me when I was just a kid?_ Yeah, that's a great conversation starter."

Ash snorted. "That would explain _a lot_." He offered, earning a pinch against his lower arm.

"Ow!" he hissed, releasing her to rub his arm. "I was _joking_."

Her face scrunched up awkwardly, and she gnawed on her lower lip. "Sorry." She deflected, sitting back once more and curling her legs up against her chest. She pulled away, but lucky for her, Ash was wonderful and repetition; how else could he repeat leagues and hope for the best?

"Don't be, I was joking. It barely hurt." He gestured to his arm, where a pink moon-shaped fingernail mark was left in his skin, causing her to huff in self-pity once more, and fall over onto her side, glaring motionlessly at the ticking clock beside the television.

Ash felt sweat on the back of his neck. Seeing her this way was odd, _weird_ , she was always peppy, sarcastic, sharp tongued and prepared for anything—not... mopey.

"Misty..." he called to her while she jolted up to face him, only inches away from him.

"You're weird." She declared, eyes soft, yet oddly intense. He gulped, then scowled.

"I could say the same about you." He said quietly.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Because you're the one dating a crazy lady." She observed with quirking eyebrows. Ash rolled his eyes.

"You're not crazy." he admit, then caught himself; he was supposed to be agreeing with her; _she was crazy_ , but the knowing smile that tugged at her lips made his head fuzzy.

"You're _a little_ crazy." He corrected, then offered his best, lopsided grin. "But you're also my favorite crazy person; everything is always a big surprise!" His voice was half-mocking, and she shoved him against the shoulder for it.

"Yeah? Well you're a girl."

Ash was clearly baffled by the statement. "I'm a _girl_? What in the world does _that_ mean?" he scoffed, earning a playful glance from the redhead.

"You're the one who always wants to talk about _feelings_ , _and_ you wear your emotions on your sleeve. You cry when you lose battles—oh, and you're always touching me."

His lips pressed thinly together, then he popped them, and slipped an arm around her waist. "I _happen_ to like touching you—and _one of_ us has to be relationship alert."

"Hey, I'm the expert here." Misty growled.

"Really?" Ash challenged, watching the eagerness reach her eyes. "You panic when I kiss you in public places, you literally ruin dates I have planned because you would rather sit at home watching league battles than get dressed up for a night of _fun_. Also, when I bring you flowers, they're dead by the next day; you're like a living, breathing, embodiment of everything that you _shouldn't_ do in a relationship."

She paused for a long time, mulling his words over in his head; thinking to deny them at first, then finally, her lips twitched. "I am not."  
He grinned. "Uh-huh." He muttered, stealing a kiss, which she absolutely refused by throwing her head back; exposing her neck to him.

"And we _go out_." she tried in her defense, but Ash rolled his eyes playfully.

"Yep, for take-out, battles, and fishing, _mostly_." He mumbled against her neck.

"H-hey!" She scowled, putting some distance between them by placing her palms against his face and pushing him backwards; both chuckling.

"Well if it bothered you so much, why didn't you say anything?"

Ash stared at her stupidly.

"I never said that it _bothered_ me." He confessed flatly, and Misty's heart fluttered.

She watched him with a stunned, dumbfounded expression before finally wrapping her entire body around his.

 **XOX**

Mornings spent with Misty were always _the best_ , weird, but _amazing_. She never objected to sharing the bed with pikachu; in fact, most of her non-slippery water pokemon somehow crawled their way to the foot of her bed, and occasionally above her pillows if given the chance.

With the sun light beaming in, Ash grimaced and rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut while patting the bed for his redheaded companion. When his arm met nothing but the empty space of bed sheets, his eyes creaked open to the lack of one Misty Waterflower laying where she should have been. He sat up slowly, for once recalling that they _didn't_ end up watching movies until she, or _both_ of them fell asleep; but spent the night talking about anything _and_ everything. When he rolled over once more, catching the waft of smoke, he jumped from the bed, and rushed into the kitchen without skipping a beat.

Eyes wide and chest heaving, he watched while Misty peeled off the remains of her best attempt at pancakes into the sink. She coughed up a storm in her red pajamas and swiped at her face to clear the air around her while Ash rushed to the stove to turn down the burns and pat the growing fire out with a damp cloth.

"Sorry." She exhaled, watching him with taunting, embarrassed eyes.

"What were you doing?" Ash grimaced, rushing to the sink to take the pan from her fingers, and drop it into the sink where he ran water over the surface.

"Trying to cook?"  
"Must everything you cook turn to ashes?" He groaned, earning a very passive growl from his lover.

"Har-har." She mocked the pun he apparently didn't notice, and looked over his shoulder at her.

"What are you up so early for, anyways?" He mumbled mentally complaining to himself that he was up before noon on his _days off_. "You should be tired."

She shifted on her feet, and stammered. "That's what coffee is for."  
"Did you burn that, too?" He asked worriedly, and Misty scowled while pointing at the brewing machine. He sighed thankfully, and then turned the tap off.

"Why were you making breakfast, you _never_ make breakfast?" He couldn't emphasis enough that Misty shouldn't, and _couldn't_ cook. She once tried to take lessons from Delia, and even his mother banned the woman from touching her stove _ever again_.

"I don't know..." She hummed, looking away from him while she grabbed the traditional box of cereal off the top of the refrigerator, and placed it onto the table with a jar of milk. "My mom used to make breakfast for us." While it was refreshing to hear her speak about her parents—not being secretive, it was still _bad_.

"Was she a bad cook, too?" Ash's tone was insensitive, and he realized a moment too late, since the female was already glaring at him.

" _No_." She scowled. "Daisy used to do all the cooking when we were younger, so I guess I never learned. Never really wanted to." Misty expressed, sinking into a wooden table while Ash gathered two bowls from the cupboard, and two spoons.

"Well, that makes two of us." He looked up at her with wide eyes, and rubbed his face. "We just need to make enough money someday to hire a personal cook—or, you know, I've heard some people have trained their pokemon... its not impossible."

Misty giggled at his response, shaking her head. "Maybe we can just live with your mom forever; she makes the best macaroons."

Ash's face turned stoic. "No. No way."

"Why? What's wrong with Delia, is she some kind of closet crazy?"

"Motherly. Overly so. Spent sixteen hours questioning when I was going to ask y-" He looked up at Misty who ate a spoonful of cereal before immediately dropping the subject.

"She's just invasive." He clarified and Misty nodded painfully slow, raising her eyebrows in _just that way_ that said she was skeptical of his response. Denial coming from a mamas-boy meant Delia must have had _some critical_ flaw she didn't know about.

"Oh well, we can survive off of vegetables and fruit, right?"

Ash snorted at the very thought and shook in gleeful excitement before he realized Misty was serious and his face fell. "No."

"I think it could be good for _us._ "

Again with the _us_ thing; when did that become _normal_? "No."

" _What?_ Are you afraid of _carrots,_ Ash Ketchum?" her voice cooed in _just_ the right way to give him chills and he glared at her.

"You can take away my freedom, but you are _never_ taking away my meat, _Misty Waterflower._ " he countered bravely, standing up with the bowl in his hands and storming off into the living room. Misty yelled back at him incoherently, laughing from the table and screaming threats about if he spilled milk on the floor he was going to pay for her shampooing bill.

"Yeah, yeah..." Ash grimaced happily, kicking on the television to the battle station to catch the early Kanto matches, and stumbled to the couch where he kicked over the blanket they shared the night prior, and slipped into the comfortable seat while sitting forward. Unlike yesterday, the house was full of light, and laughter, and the sound of Misty complaining about _silly_ things that made his heart race all over again.

If he was strange for liking her, he must have been three times more crazy to be _in love_ with her. Yet, he wouldn't trade it for the world.

"Misty, have you-!" Ash started, thinking aloud before his eyes caught a crumbled, folded letter stuffed halfway under the coffee table, and fished it out with a curious expression. Conversation stalled, and he listened to Misty who ran water into the sink to clean up her mess, and ignored his soggy cereal before clutching the letter, and unfolding it.

 _Daisy, Lily, Violet, and Misty._

 _It harms us deeply to say this, but we won't be around anymore. Best of luck running the gym; you'll do great._

 _Signed,_

 _Mom and Dad_

Ash read it again, _then again_ , and again until he finally drew to the conclusion that her parents were heartless. _This_ was heartless; they gave their only children _no_ explanation! They just left!

The paper was still wet from where Misty's tears stained it earlier, and Ash thumbed the letter to feel for a second page, or some hidden message. The writing was scrawled, as an after thought, and he wondered if they even _thought_ of leaving a letter in the first place! No _love_ , no dear, just a cut and dry letter of abandonment.

His heart thundered in his chest while he slowly folded the paper back up and grit his teeth together tightly.

"Hey, Ash—did you..." She looked at him sitting at the coffee table, stiff as a board, cereal sitting forgotten. "What're doing?" She asked suddenly watching him jump. Instinctively, he slipped the letter behind one of his larger hands, and smiled to her effortlessly. He couldn't watch her get choked up again.

"Nothing." he said too quickly, and her eyebrows lowered sketpically, followed by narrowed eyes.

"Really?"

"Really." Ash swallowed while she leaned over the couch to stare closely at him. With her eyes fixated on his own, he tucked the letter between the couch cushions and kept his forced smile going strong. She didn't question it, didn't think to—until she nodded her face to his bowl.

"Your cereal is going to get soggy." She declared, reeling away from him while raising her arm above her head to stretch. "I'm going off for a shower." She hummed happily while Ash exhaled a sigh of relief. He wasn't caught.

"Maybe after wards we could try one of those _dates_ you're always pinning for." She mocked him gleefully. His lips curled into frown and he stuck his tongue out at her.

"That depends solely on if you swear never to cook again!" Ash called after her, earning a snort.

"Oh, darn, guess we'll have to cancel again!" She yelled from the bathroom, Ash's skin crawled.

"You're going to burn your gym down one of these days!" Though the shower tap clicked on, and her response was drowned out by the sound of running pipes. Pikachu emerged from the kitchen, pouncing onto Ash's head while the trainer tugged the letter out once again, and peeled it open one corner at a time.

Something was wrong. They looked _too happy_ for this to be it. To suddenly leave; they had so many pictures of their children—that didn't seem _right_ to realize they didn't want them.

Maybe it was because he knew Misty so well, because they had been friends for so long—or perhaps even because he knew, himself, what it was like to have an absentee parent, that when he read the letter, he had the urge to find them.

For her.

...and maybe himself.

 **Author's Note** :

Uhm, that ended up being _a lot_ heavier than I wanted it to be.

This was originally going to have Ash somehow end up in a cross-dressing experience, but...what, how did this happen? XD;

A part of me always imagined that while Misty is into romance, she doesn't really understand it herself (which is why her reactions are sometime very volatile or spontaneous). Somehow, that ended up tying into her parents which I have always headcannoned as abandoning her sisters (like in that one interview) at a young age, and yeah. I guess we had a story where Ash's father is mentioned; now Misty's parents. Wee!~ Who's next? YES FEEL THE DRAMA/ANGST.

Got a few requests coming up soon after this one. I haven't forgotten about ya'! ;D


	15. Chapter 15: Pokebook?

Pairing: Ash/Misty, hints of others

Genre: Humor/Romance

Rating: T

Summary: In which a new website unleashes a world of Teenage Hormones.

Requested By: AshPli

 **XOX**

How _stupid_.

No, Ash Ketchum would not be purchasing a smart-dex, he _would not_ be registering for this new application titled _pokebook_ and no matter _what_ Brock told him, he did _not_ care what Misty Waterflower, or any of her sisters were doing at any given time during the day now, or ten days from now. If she _really_ wanted to talk with him, she could call him; or send a letter—or hey, she could maybe even visit once in awhile!

"C'mon, Ash, even pikachu has a page." Brock flashed his new smart-dex to Ash, who immediately threw his head to one side and pursed his lips.

"No way, Brock! I'm not signing on for some stupid website so I can tune in to everyone's life twenty-four seven! It's an invasion of privacy and-"

"Since when did you care about that?" Brock interrupted, flabbergasted by the young man's startling response. Ash cleared his throat shortly after.

"Well, then I'll just be over here then, looking at shared pictures—and whoa.. Man, she's really grown up."

"Who has grown up?" Ash asked, eyes twitching, trying to ignore the obvious bait.

"Oh, nothing you would care abo—is that Max? Oh man I didn't think-" Brock stopped, staring at Ash who looked over his shoulder in awe. Brock smacked his lips.

"I mean, not that you'd care after all."

Ash rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Brock. I care, I just don't want my life advertised online, it's hard enough staying out of the media, you know."

Brock cleared his throat. "Riiiight, 'fraid all those secret hook ups are gonna finally reach the light of day." Had Brock been looking at Ash, who nearly choked on his own tongue, he might have suspected something fishy. "Your image is squeaky clean—what's getting a _social media_ account going to do? Make it easier to hear from your friends?"

The sting in his voice made it very apparent that Brock was jabbing at Ash's constant away-time; he spent less and less time in Kanto after each league, and he spent more time training and traveling than he did making new companions. If it wasn't for Brock, who pestered him with weekly calls, Ash would probably cease to exist to the human world. Ash's lips flat lined, and he shook his head.

"C'mon, Brock, you know I miss everyone. I just don't like stuff like that."  
"You sound so old!" Brock gasped, "Where's your freedom, man? Look, Just try it out for a week; see how everyone is doing, and if you still don't like it, you can delete your account and return the smart-dex." Brock offered, handing Ash the red and black portable device.

Ash stared down at it for a long time, weighing his options. He could leave the device, tell Brock that he didn't have interest and result in the possible alienation of his best friend; _or_ , he could accept the phone, play this game for a week, and then return it without any lash back—the decision was clear to him.

"Alright, but only one week." Ash muttered, taking the phone from Brock who flashed Ash a quick thumbs up.

"You won't be disappointed, I promise. I'll just run along then." Proud of himself, Brock tilted his chin at Ash, "Look me up." He winked, then took off into the Ketchum resident, leaving Ash on the front step, holding a glorified paperweight that glowed unearthed shades of white, and frowned deeply.

"Yeah-huh." Ash offered in short-supply of excitement while staring at the glowing screen.

 _Welcome to Pokebook! Login in, Sign in, or Learn More!_

A frustrated groan escaped his lips, and he let his head hit the door frame. Ash didn't much care for technology.

 **XOX**

Anything is possible with science! That's what Ash had to keep telling himself while he sat up on his bed, flipping through the new smart-dex Brock lent him. Two hours later, and he _still_ didn't create an account. He was supposed to, he knew, that was the deal—but there was no way that Brock was keeping that close of tabs on-

"Hey, did'ya make an account yet?"

Ash jumped from his bed, throwing covers over himself, feeling indecent, though he was dressed. The whole website made him feel exposed and raw. Brock didn't notice.

"I'll be waiting for that friend request." He said in a slow tone leaving Ash in his room with a thumbs up. Ash stared back at the phone, fell backwards, and growled. Even _Pikachu_ had an account, huh? So that's what the mouse was doing on his free time at the pokemon centers—playing on _Pokebook._ Least it made sense how Pikachu knew what people were doing more than Ash did.

Besides, what could it hurt? He hadn't talked with most of his companions in _years_ , not since returning from out of the league three years ago—what could a week of catching up _online_ do? Ash was quick to adapt, and, after all, _anything was possible with science. ..._ He only hoped Clemont was right.

So, he made an account. It wasn't hard, it only wanted all of his information and first born son as an offering to this creator 'Marvin Zuckerice', it was worse than that guy to who created pokeSpace some years ago; except this one was still around.

 _DOB:_ May 22

A _ge_ : 18

 _Bio, likes, relationship status, religious affiliation, job, school, location; hometown-_

Ash looked away from the screen to exhale, the sign-up page was about a mile long, longer than most league applications, and if Ash was looking to apply for a job, it seemed longer than an application! Eventually, he decided to skip past the 'optional' answers, and floated down to the very bottom of the page which read simply.

 _Create account_.

Okay, he could do that, easy peasy! Now he could put the phone down and Brock could leave him alone, and he wouldn't have to worry about anything-

Y _ou're almost done, check out your privacy settings, would you like to take a profile picture, let us help you set up your timeline-_

Skip. Skip. Skip. Ash clicked the button a million times, until eventually he was met with an empty _timeline_ , his only friend a goose egg and a severe amount of white background, and

 _Suggestions_.

 _People you may know:_ Brock Harrison _Thanks, Brock_ , Pikachu Ketchum, Delia Ketchum— _Did his mom have a pokebook, too?!_ Gary MF Oak— _At least Gary was keeping it classy-_ Samuel Oak, _who was Samuel Oak_? Ritchie Notashcopy— _Hey! Ash hadn't seen Ritchie in years_.

His first destination was clicking on the former rivals face, being led away to another loading screen until a screen with a large background over the top, and a tiny photo was placed above his name in bold writing. Beneath that: _Add friend, Follow, message, …_

Curious, Ash clicked the dots leading him to several new prompts that he immediately clicked away from: _Block, poke, see friendship—_ whatever those meant.

Finally; the fun part: _About,_ (A piece Ash completely ignored), _Photos,_ and _friends_.

Well, Ash was supposed to find a bunch of his friends—what better way to do that than start here? He could find everyone at once, add them, thin the herd, and feel less guilty in the coming months.

He clicked add friend on Ritchie's _profile_ , opened up his list of friends; and started clicking on every picture that looked familiar—the task was far easier than he imagined, instead of going to each profile as he suspected originally, which would take him _years_ , he could simply click "add friend" wait for the "request sent" prompt, and be done with it.

This would be too easy!

Names and faces flew by like numbers, and before the clock hit ten, Ash 'friended' probably half of the pokemon league—people he saw only once or twice when he was younger; larger people in his life like May, and Dawn, and the Waterflower sisters—he even found Melody, and Casey, and Trip, and Paul ( _Which he wouldn't lie, knowing Paul had one made Ash a little more relaxed._ ) Gym leaders were accepting requests, even Sabrina, the psychic woman had an account that was open to requests! It was like a whole new world, where social status didn't exist, and everyone knew everyone.

And now Ash was apart of that world.

For a week. At most.

"Well, that was easy enough!" Ash complimented himself while tossing his smart-dex down onto the nightstand beside his bed. Ash collapsed into a sigh of relief, stretching his arms above his head and relaxing.

"That's one day down, and now to sleep-" _bzzzz_. One eye opened in the dark of his bedroom, and he turned over very slowly at the object which bleeped green light into his otherwise pitch black room. You know what; a website was _not_ going to ruin his sleep. If someone had something to say to him—or the website was crashing, he honestly didn't know what was going on, it could wait until morning.

 _Bzzz! Ding. Bzzz_

Erupted from the smart-dex and Ash quickly grabbed the phone. "Don't you people sleep?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes before flicking the screen on and pulling down the menu.

 _New Message from..._

 _You have new friend requests!_

 _Pokebook update_ , _don't leave your friends waiting—update your profile now._

Ash felt his face twitch in several places while the unfamiliar feeling of dread filled his chest, and he pulled at the phone and lifted it above his face while sorting through the list.

 **Gary MF Oak** __ _wrote_ __ _on your timeline:_

"ASHY-BOY, you finally made an account. Good to see you're finally advancing in life."

 **Brock Harrison, Misty Waterflower, May Maple** and three others _liked_ this.

 **Misty Waterflower** _wrote on your timeline:_

 _"_ Boo! What happened to all that nonsense about social media turning people into zombies? Welcome to the undead."

 **Gary MF Oak** _Liked_ this.

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "Misty, be nice, he's still shy! He doesn't even have a profile picture."

 **Misty Waterflower** __wrote: "So it was your doing? Did you bribe him or something?"

Inhaling and panicked over the sudden millions of notifications and messages being sent to his smart-dex, Ash did what he did best.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "He did noy brib me i decided to giveit a try for a week"

Ash's bulky fingers on the small touch screen were like trying to thread a needle with his eyes closed—wasn't there supposed to be some kind of helpful auto-correct, or something?

 **May Maple** and **Dawn Matthews** _reacted_ to this, **Brock Harrison, Misty Waterflower, Gary MF Oak, Ritchie Notashcopy** _liked_ this.

 **Misty Waterflower** _wrote_ : "Oh, man. Looks like we have a typing amateur over here. Did Brock not show you how to turn on auto-correct?"

Infuriated by her response, he could see the snark look on her face and glared at her little icon before replying:

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "I dont need it. Ust because you need somone to check your speeling doenst mean mine is bad"

He replied quickly and knew his response would leave her speechless! Ash didn't need to get accustomed to how this technology worked, he would only use it for a week, anyways. Maybe his atrocious writing would put off his friends, anyways?

 **Dawn Matthews** _tagged you in a post:_

 _"_ Hey, guys, **Ashton B. Ketchum** finally made a face book—let's make him feel welcome! -smiley face-

It's good to hear from you again, but your profile is kind of empty! You should update it!

Have you entered any new leagues! You should call me! Or message me!

(The note was concluded with a gushing picture of a piplup and Ash shook his head, watching the numbers roll in)"

 **Misty Waterflower, Brock Harrison, Gary MF. Oak, Iris D.** _and sixteen others liked this post_.

Six comments (and growing), mostly filled with "welcome to pokebook, Ash!", followed by an ever growing list of likes, and an increasing amount of friend requests filled his eyes for the next five minutes while Ash tried to pull the reigns on all the excitement. Maybe 'friending' so many people at one time was insane! He should have started slow!

 **Iris D.** posted on your timeline:

"I see you don't have a photo for your profile picture yet, how about this one?"

Below was a large picture of Ash staring at a camera looking bashfully confused, wearing a yellow wig and a pink, frilly dress. The color left Ash's face, recalling the incident in Unova where he was forced to dress as a girl and he dropped his smart-dex.

 **Serena Yvonne** reacted to this.

 **Serena Yvonne** wrote: "o.o"

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "Oh, I _love_ the make up, Ash. I didn't know you were still into cross dressing!"

 **Iris D., Dawn Matthews, Brock Harrison, Max Maple, Gary MF Oak,** and 4 others liked this comment.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Shut up Misty! Iris delete that wht is wrong with yu?!"

 **Daisy Waterflower: "** Oh, Ash, you look, like, so cute! Do you want to come do a show with us? You'd make a great princess!"

Ash dropped his smart-dex, kicked it across the room, and dived into his pillows and hid from the sound of the pulsating bleeps and obnoxious buzzes from across the room in favor of forcing himself to fall asleep. What in the world kind of hell was that place!? Where did Iris even get that picture—when did she _take_ that picture?!

He felt so humiliated, and it was because of that damn website.

Ash exhaled, but that was okay, he only need to make it _one week_ , after that, he could pretend the whole thing never happened...and take a long cruise to Alola again and spend a few months on an island somewhere far, _far_ away, isolated from technology and his friends. Was this the wonderful world of the internet?

 **XOX**

Ash didn't touch the smart-dex for most of the next morning, Brock took the train home that morning, laughing gleefully in Ash's expense, and gloated about how _fun_ the website was! How _connected_ everyone was. Yeah, Ash felt connected alright, to a growing level of discord and _hate_.

They said their goodbyes, and Ash spent most of the day helping his mother around the house with some chores. Since she started working at the garden center, she hadn't been able to clean out the basement, so Ash was removing boxes and carrying them to the garbage when his back pocket vibrated. After the charade last night, most of his friends stopped messaging him—or at the very least were too busy to do so this early in the morning. Thankful for the break, he let out a loud sigh of frustration when the phone vibrated. Pikachu had been avoiding him all morning, playing with Mr. Mime in the meadow and enjoying it's leisure time taunting Ash and mocking him for his innate lack of _skill_. He had to ask the pokemon to turn on his auto-correct for him, since he wasn't sure.

A part of him missed Clemont, at least the blonde's technology resulted in the occasional explosion, not in embarrassing pictures. Needless to say, Ash was a bit nervous checking the application once more. He had no idea _what_ he was walking into, would it be nightmare fuel? Or...

Clicking the application open to see the flood of notifications—34, and 12 messages, as well as 45 friend requests (man, was he popular or what?), Ash grimaced while finding his way to the living room couch. He still had tons of stuff to carry from down stairs, so he had no _idea_ what possessed him to sit around and check his _phone_ for replies; search for damage.

The first thing he saw was a timeline; his _friends_ timeline.

 **Daisy Waterflower** posted a picture: "I swear, she's more man than woman."

Below was the wonderful image of Misty holding a squirming, newborn pokemon with gloves up to her elbows and mud on the front of her yellow blouse (it might not have been mud, but he wasn't going to ask)—not to mention the obscene gesture of her tongue poking out of her mouth, and eyes squeezed closed like some 80's hairband. Ash chuckled, flicked the like button, and left a snooty comment.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "Good to see you keeping it classy Mist."

 **Daisy Waterflwer** liked this.

Immediate gratification emerged in his chest upon witnessing his first liked comment and he sat up a little straighter while scrolling past a few advertisements.

 _Sixteen things every pokemon trainer should know!_

 _Ten Easy steps to becoming a pokemon master!_

 _Pesky zubats infestation? Three easy steps to be rid of them for life!_

Of course, being _new_ , Ash clicked them all. He didn't know there was so much he didn't know! Could he really teach pikachu skills that only a raichu could learn if he was standing on his head!?

 **Dawn Matthews** posted on her timeline:

"I'm not ready for this appeal match! Two more battles for the crown and I've obtained my title!"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "You will do great Dawn! Is it time for a new grand festival already?"

 **Dawn Matthews** replied: "Yes! And I'm so nervous! I'm battling **May Maple** __after this appeal round—is it possible for both of us to win!?"

 **May Maple** wrote: "Don't worry. We've both worked really had these last few years. No hard feelings when I kick your butt, okay?"

 **Dawn Matthews** wrote: "Who said you were going to kick my butt! I'll wipe the floor with you!"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "Guys, don't fight over this. You both are going to do great."

 **May Maple, Dawn Matthews, You, Brock Harrison,** and three others liked this.

 **Drew Hayden** wrote: "But May is still going to win."

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "Down boy! You'll start a cat fight before the match even begins!"

Before Ash could see the wall-drama continue, he backed out of the conversation and scrolled along his feed. That was apparently a bad idea. Grunting, he hoped that Dawn and May were just kidding, they weren't seriously fighting over who would win, were they? Did people normally fight like this?

Feeling a gurgling in his stomach, he decided to check his notifications finally—most of them were replies to his comments, being tagged in posts, being tagged in pictures (apparently, that 'Ash cross dresses' thing resulted in _everyone_ sharing experiences!) and tagged in comments. Brock linked him to several _hundred_ battle network reports about himself: Ash had no idea he was so … _popular_.

Then the rest were comments onto his timeline from people who hadn't seen in years, asking him how he was doing, what was going on his life; and one in particular was...

 **Melody G.** wrote on your timeline:

"Heeeeey Ashy! Long time no see, you haven't been to the Orange islands in _years_ , even though you're the 'champion' here.

How's life as the chosen one? Saw what you did in Kalos region a few weeks ago. Great job, you're a local hero here, still!

….hey, you still single? Just curious!

xoxoxo"  
Ash nearly choked on his tongue—What!? Why would she ask that, and why were so many people curious. Fourteen comments, twenty-three likes for _what_!? Curiosity bit into his soul, and he followed the link again.

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "He's married to his training."

 **Melody G.** replied: "Awh, Misty! Are you planning to visit again anytime soon?"

 **Serena Yvonne** wrote: "I didn't know Ash was a champion already! (: He never talked about you guys!"

 **Gary MF Oak** wrote: "It's because the Orange Islands is a joke of a league!"

 **Tracey Sketchit** wrote: "I am insulted on behalf of all people from the Orange Islands! How would you know anyways? I don't see you challenging Ash!"

 **Gary MF Oak** wrote: "I don't have to because I'd win! Only a loser would brag about winning there."

 **Serena Yvonne** wrote: "Ash isn't a loser!"

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "Gary. I think you need to pull up your pants."

 **Gary MF Oak** wrote: "...why?"

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "Your asshole is showing again."

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "HAHAHAHAHA."

 **Max Maple** wrote: "HAHAHAH. Sick burn Misty."

 **Dawn Matthews, May Maple, Tracey Sketchit, Erica F.** and three others liked this comment.

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote **: "** I know, thank you, thank you."

 **Serena Yvonne** : "Yeah, you guys are really funny. I hope we haven't scared you away Ash! Don't forget to update a profile picture soon! On se parle bientot!"

 **Bonnie L., Clemont, L., Miette,** and four others liked this comment.

Shaking his head back and forth to clear his mind, Ash swallowed the lump in his throat, contained his own giggles, then looked over his shoulder to see a snide pikachu glaring knowing at his grin.

"Shut up, pikachu." Ash barked, slipping his phone into his pocket and retreating to the privacy of is bedroom, away from the judgmental eyes of his pokemon, who knew just how much he was against the website before—but what could he say; it was actually a little fun! People he had _no idea_ knew each other were talking and trading comments; it was like some personal keepsake of his friends. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

Once in the confinement of his own room, with the windows closed, and the door locked, Ash took a fevered seat on his bed, and opened the application up once more; this time, a bit more eagerly. He scrolled through timelines, most of his old companions—Brock's was full of half-naked girls and medical information when he wasn't gushing over his friends and family; Misty wasn't active in posting her own material, most of her updates came from Daisy tagging her, and Misty's prevalent _trolling_ on the website _._ Tracey posted his art work; even had a page dedicated to it—and _holy shit_ , were he and Daisy dating? Why were there so many pictures of them kissing!?

Seeing Tracey kissing Daisy as his profile picture opened a new can of worms for Ash, as he went on a mission to see what else he missed—apparently, Dawn, donning the title 'it's complicated', posted a million pictures of her and Zoey; Ash was _blind_ , but he wasn't that blind! May was _clearly_ dating Drew—wherever that came from, Ash would never know. While May's updates consisted mostly of a mountain of delicious looking recipes (Ash decided he liked May's timeline the most, because _food_ ) Drew was apparently the closet gushy type, because his profile picture was of his nose snuggling into May's cheek while she focused on her dinner plate: their relationship in a nutshell, he guessed.

Then there were the _bloggers_ , Cilan, for example, liked to write a good morning and good night post _every single day_ , which was always countered by a snark Iris who only posted embarrassing photos of her friends, apparently; she had a whole folder of them. Ash's mom, who he friended reluctantly, posted on _everyone's status update._ Brock made groups for get-togethers—Ash already had three for the next two months—and his rivals had some keen sense of photography, and those were only the profiles he looked at!

Clemont turned his entire page into a science test, Bonnie spammed people in worse grammar than his own, and Gary had _literal_ pages designated to his ego.

The internet was a scary place.

What was even more scary was that Ash dedicated the remaining eight hours of the day glued to his smart-dex. It was like an addiction he couldn't scratch, and so he nosily filtered through _more_ and _more_ of his friends' lives!

By the time he laid down to sleep, his head ached, and his muscles were sore from doing nothing but laying in bed all day. He felt more exhausted now than he did walking twenty miles in one direction! But he felt so alive; filled with the burning desire to read more, maybe make his own comments. He was fairly successful after all, and everyone was asking about him?

Maybe tomorrow he'd finally post that profile picture.

 **XOX**

Ash woke up and immediately grabbed his smart-dex, he barely slept four hours before waking to the sound of a gentle buzz that he _had_ to check. Once the object was clutched in his hands, he nuzzled back into his pillows, and discovered a new source of notifications, and messages; there was an extreme drop, of course—to be expected—so today he decided he would reply to messages.

Thirteen unread messages:

 **Brock Harrison: "** ASH. WHY ARE YOU NOT REPLYING TO ME?"

Ash raised his eyebrows and clicked a few keys.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum: "** Still trying to figure everything out. How's Pewter City?"

Then he moved to the next message,

 **Melody G.: "** Hey, who's that blonde girl in that picture of you from the Kalos region? She's reallllly pretty. New girlfriend?"

Ash raised a questionable eyebrow.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum: "** New girlfriend? And that's Serena, she traveled with me in Kalos. How have you been Melody? Staying away from boats, I hope."

Surprising to Ash, she replied immediately.

 **Melody G.: "** Oh, you know. I just figured because you both looked so close is all. I live on an island, how can I stay away from boats? Have you talked to Misty yet?"  
Ash's brow lowered. __ **Ashton B. Ketchum: "** No? And thanks I guess"

Since she didn't reply again, Ash exited out of the screen, and flicked to the next message...which was from the devil herself—speak her name and she will be summoned, he supposed. The last message was from yesterday.

 **Misty Waterflower:** "Hey! Are you in Pallet Town right now?"

Ash blinked several times, unsure of how to answer that. He was, technically, but given his massive free time; she should have already deduced that.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Yup."

Haha! This was easy! When he saw that she read the message, and dots started eagerly typing, then faded away, he discovered a new feeling; anticipation. Suddenly, he felt his response was not accurate enough, and in lieu of her delayed response, he typed immediately.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Why? What's up?"

 **Misty Waterflower:** "No reason, I was just wondering. Where do you think you'll be going next?" At her quick response, Ash let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and fidgeted with his phone.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Not sure yet."

Again, she started to reply, then stopped, and Ash felt the impending dread in his chest. This time, he ignored it in favor of backing out of the odd-feeling invoking conversation, and move onto the next one.

 **Delia Ketchum:** "Hiii sweetie! Welcome to Pokebook!"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Thanks mom, but we live in the same house, you know."

She was also at work, so he knew he wouldn't get a reply until she was home. Not that it mattered anyways, Ash flicked to the next screen, which was a message from Gary.

 **Gary MF Oak:** "Hey, are you in Pallet Town?"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Yep. Only until the end of the week. Where are you?" instantly read, no reply. Not that Ash was surprised, Gary was either super friendly, or snooty—sometimes he had relapses, and that was okay. Ash just didn't want to deal with them. While switching back to review a message left by May who from what he could see from the clip was spazzing out, Melody replied.

 **Melody G.** : "just wondering. You two used to be so close."

Insulted, Ash snorted.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "We are still close. I'm just traveling to new places, and she's running her gym."

 **Melody G.:** "Oh...So you're 'close' then? How close would you say?" Ash's face screwed up while reading the comment; was he missing something? Did she mean close physically? Because physically Misty was a few miles away.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Pretty close? Are you asking in a physical way or a friendly way?"

 **Melody G.: "** You guys are physically close?"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Not right now. She's in Cerulean City."

Her replies came faster. **Melody G.:** "But you have been before?!"

What a stupid question, of course he has been! They traveled together for three years!

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Well, yeah, of course. We used to spend a lot of time together." he paused, eyebrow dancing furiously. Something wasn't right here.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Why so many questions about Misty?"  
Melody didn't reply right away, but Misty did. He also had six notifications shoot off in under a couple of seconds and his lips curled curiously. Before he could check, however, said red haired vixen replied to his message immediately, flooding his screen.

 **Misty Waterflower:** "What the _fuck_ , Ash!?" Worried, he felt sweat pool at the back of his neck, and he realized he wasn't having fun with this anymore.

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Where do you get off telling Melody that, you pervert!"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "What? Telling Melody what?"

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Don't play innocent! You haven't had an account for longer than a week and you're already screwing with my reputation, THANKS."

Ash moved to reply, but in her haste, she must have blocked him, or something, because the confused rambling of an apology refused to send, and he couldn't click on her profile picture anymore. Reeling back, his eyes shifted around the room, and he decided to find the source of the problem; which was a reel of notifications blowing up.

 **Melody G.** tagged you in a post:

"You heard it here first, folks: **Ashton B. Ketchum** and _Misty Waterflower_ (Her name was strangely grayed out for him) are dating! Well, if not dating, they sure have one hell of a secret 'relation'ship.

Xoxox's~"

Ash then realized two things: Melody wrote the gossip column for those articles featuring click bait " _Ten things you need to know about pokemon masters to woo them"_... only, he was now the click bait, and people believed her!

 **Brock Harrison, May Maple, Serena Yvonne** reacted to this, **Max Maple, Gary MF Oak and** eighteen others _liked_ this.

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "I saw you like three hours ago, Ash, how come you didn't tell me!? I thought we were friends!"

 **May Maple** wrote: "Cheer up, Brock! Hey, _**Drew**_ , we have someone to go on double dates with!"

 **Serena Yvonne** wrote: "o.o"

 **Gary MF Oak** wrote: "What kind of 'relations'? Because he better not be trying to breed."

 **Drew Hayden** wrote: Lol. No.

 **Serena Yvonne** wrote: "...wow, congratulations."

 **Bonnie L.** wrote: "ASH HOW CUD U DO THIS!?"

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "Could you guys relax? Ash is a nimrod and Melody's a gossip (A poor one, at that). There is NOTHING going on between us. This is just like that time she tried to say Brock had sex with Nurse Joy. It's just not happening!"

 **Serena Yvonne** liked this comment.

 **Dawn Matthews** wrote: "Well, I wouldn't say 'nothing', he did after all carry a fishing lure with your face on it. Sometimes I think I woke up to him making out with it."

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "Thanks for throwing me under the bus, Misty! I thought we could all forget about that!"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "WHAT THE DUCK DAWN? I DID NOT."

 **Dawn Matthews** wrote: "For an innocent man, you sure are denying it pretty loudly."

 **Brock Harrison** liked this comment.

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "Can verify. Ash's first kiss was with a fishing lure."

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "It was not! What is wrong with you two?!"

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "Hey, if I'm going down, I'm taking you all down with me. Dawn likes BDSM."

 **Paul Shinji** liked this comment.

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "I hate all of you. So much. T.T"

 **Dawn Matthews** wrote: "Love you too, Red. (Also, meeeoooww Brocko)"

 **Zoey M.** wrote: "Kinky."

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "Melody, if you don't take this post down, I'm telling your sister about last summer!"

 **Melody G.** wrote: "Oh, chill out, Misty, I was just playing around. Don't get your virgin panties in a twist."

Ash had see enough, he dropped his smart-dex, leaving it on his bed while more messages sang. He didn't care _what_ they said anymore, he just wanted to not be around it. Grabbing his coat while pulling on a pair of blue jeans, Ash fled his bedroom as if it caught fire, and made headway to the lab on the hill.

His friends were crazy, and Pokebook was _evil_.

 **XOX**

 **"** You know, you can't run away forever." Tracey said while swiveling in the lab chair while he motioned to Ash to had him a pair of tweezers.

"Is it _always_ that bad, Tracey? I've been on there for two days and I feel my sanity slowly slipping away." Tracey spared a glance to his one-time companion, then stared back at his work reconstructing a pokemon's skull.

"It dies down after a little while. Everyone is just stoked to see you, I guess. Besides, if you think it's bad now, wait until you really _are_ in a relationship."

"is it horrible?" Ash asked, brows knitting together.

"No, no one asks you anything because once you've become pokebook official, you're boring." Ash's eyebrows rose in response and he tilted his head in confusion while Tracey elaborated.

"That's why all the most interesting people have their relationship status tagged 'complicated' don't you know?" While speaking, Tracey smiled to Ash and dusted his hands off.

"I didn't even know you and Daisy were dating. Congratulations if I've forgotten to say it before."

Tracey shrugged

"Eh, it's not like we advertised it, anyways. Besides, you didn't have a pokebook, so how would you be expected to know?"

Ash's face fell. "...because you could have told me, you know? Not all the information about my friends has to be taken from some...website. I do like talking to you guys."

"Yeah, but phone calls and emails are outdated, it's easier this way to stay in contact. It's just part of the new times."

Ash set his chin down on the desk and exhaled while pikachu tapped on the community computer, being more efficient with his own networking than Ash ever could be.

"I don't like the new times."

 **XOX**

 **Misty Waterflower** : About, photos, friends.

Why was he here again? She did seem pretty mad, but Misty over reacted to things all the time, certainly this wasn't going to be a big deal?

The first image he saw was one that Daisy took of her sitting on a worn, green couch, huddling a large red pillow, and wearing a yellow hoodie—Lily sat beside her pointing at the television, but Misty stared into the camera; she knew it was there, and she was pissed that someone was taking a picture of her.

The caption was what made him feel guilty though.

 **Daisy Waterflower** wrote: "Cheer up little sister, it's only a flesh wound."

A flesh wound of what sort! He refused to comment, or give any indication he was _stalking_ her page for answers. All the way down he could see, over ninety percent of her posts belong to Daisy, the other ten percent were shared information of upcoming league information and tournaments; and the occasional advertisement for a water ballet or swimming lessons offered at the gym.

 _Why was he here_?

The last day of his sentence, he was _positive_ he wasn't going to keep this stupid pokebook after the last few days incident. His mother came home in tears, demanding grandchildren and apologies. She spent the second half of the day baking her emotions away, and Ash decided he was going to spend some time sleeping at Tracey's house.

Dawn won the grand festival, she and May both celebrated with a party, and posted a million pictures of their extravagant adventure, Brock continued his trail of inappropriate content; and the whole _Ash has a pokebook page_ blew over rather quickly. Serena would occasionally tag him in pictures—mostly stuff about childhood friends and friendships lasting a life time—he quickly discovered that the easiest way to reply was to like it quickly, and disregard the information. Yes, Ash Ketchum, he who wore his emotions on his sleeve, disregarded information because there was _so much of it_. He had no idea how people had so much time to post new content everyday! Where were they finding time in their busy schedules? If he was traveling right now, he had no idea how he could fit in time to check back with everyone and post status updates. It required a talent he didn't have.

Thus, when the time finally came to deactivate his account; it was only natural to stumble onto Misty's page. Everything went back to normal after Melody deleted that little post, but she hadn't messaged him since, and she seemed to eager to before.

Releasing his jitters with a sigh, Ash made the first move.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** posted to Misty's timeline:

"Hey, Misty. Why did you want to know if I was in Pallet Town?"

She was online, so she had to have read it! So she should have replied right away, right? Not that he was expecting her to—not that she should have been angry with him anyways!

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "I did not know Melody was going to post something like that! She asked if we were close and I said yes and then she asked if we were physically close and I said we used to be and I don't know where she got that idea from but there is no reason you should be mad at me."

 **Misty Waterflower** replied: "I'm not mad at you. Besides, you don't owe me and explanation. Also, was just curious. Daisy is visiting Tracey soon."

It was too dry, unlike Misty. He saw her quips over the last few days, she had a loaded silver tongue if he ever saw one. No, she was upset. Otherwise, she would have smacked him down with sarcasm.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "You curious? Please. Are you coming too?" It _shouldn't_ have been weird, damn it, they have been friends for nine years. A little misunderstanding for the hundredth time about their standing as friends shouldn't have made him so twitchy! Why was he twitchy?!

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "Eh, probably not. It's been really busy at the gym this season. Besides, aren't you leaving soon?"

 _Well duh_.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "Well, if you wanted to stop by I'd hang around a little longer. My mom needs help moving stuff from the attic, anyways. Something about missing several spring cleanings, idk."

 **Brock Harrison** liked this comment—Ash saw the slip before he un-liked it, removing his name, and Ash's eyes narrowed.

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "Ash Ketchum waiting on someone? Who died?" A grin tugged at his lips, that was much better; her insistent sarcasm meant she wasn't upset with him.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "Har. Har. Besides, mom says you haven't stopped by in awhile! I can't imagine what you've been surviving off of at the gym food wise. Ramen every day will kill ya', you know."

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "Excuse me? I'm a fairly good cook now, thank you. I can even make flavored ramen! I occasionally even eat vegetables. In my soup. How cool is that?!"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote _:_ "Right, meat shaped like vegetables doesn't count, Mist. So you're going to come by then?" Why did he seem so antsy.

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "I dunno... it's been really busy here."

 **Dawn Matthews** wrote: "OMG IF YOU TWO COULD STOP FLIRTING, that would be great! (i'm kidding, please continue) -hearts-"

Ash nearly spit out his drink, forgotten was the grin on his lips and looked around his room shamefully. He hadn't realized he was grinning, or nervous, or...were his hands shaking?!

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "No, please don't stop. I've been waiting for this my whole life. Now we need a confession, **Ashton B. Ketchum?"**

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "Confession...what confession?"

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "Arceus, man, get out, Brock."

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "I CAN'T LET YOU RUIN THIS MOMENT."

 **Misty Waterflower** wrote: "You already did!"

 **Gary MF Oak, Dawn Matthews, May Maple** liked this comment.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "What moment?"  
 **Brock Harrison** wrote **:** "The moment where you admit your undying, wild, inappropriate love for our one Misty Waterflower. You've seen recent pictures of her, haven't you?"  
 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote **:** "Is this what you wanted me to make an account for?!"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** wrote: "Also, shut up!"

 **Brock Harrison** wrote: "I don't see you denying it!"

 **Tracey Sketchit, Daisy Waterflower, May Maple, Dawn Matthews,** and four others liked this comment.

Ash wasn't even sure what else to say to this; _how ludicrous_! Ash didn't exactly know what that word meant, but Misty used it when people would exclaim things that were incorrect, and clearly _everyone_ was drinking, or high, or touched in the head! Ash didn't like Misty. Well, actually, of _course_ he liked Misty, they were best friends; have been best friends for years—why did wanting to catch up automatically equal dating? This was the _exact_ reason he never wanted to join this website!

More comments flooded, a few from his mother at work, but he ignored them in favor of one message from Misty.

 **Misty Waterflower** : "I'll delete the comment, it's fine. Sorry about that lol." Why was she apologizing? Why was he so worked up!?

 **Ashton B. Ketchum: "** Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong." ...but he was dying to know.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Do you know anything about their weirdness though? You know, why they would say that stuff?"

Misty read the message immediately, but since the notifications stopped, he could only assume she was busy deleting the deliciously evil post that Brock ruined so casually.

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Why did you want me to visit so badly?"  
 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Why did you answer a question with a question?"

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Ash, don't try to be smooth. You're not smooth."

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "I wasn't trying to be smooth. Well, maybe."

 **Misty Waterflower:** "Ha. Why in the world?"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum:** "You know, this is what's wrong with this whole website, I never know what anyone really means because its all text, and everyone is always in everyone's personal lives!"

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Whoa! Ash, you have a private life...that you don't advertise? I would have never thought you of all people wouldn't want the extra attention."

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Well, it's not that. It's nice hearing from everyone, but, have you noticed, everything I do results in someone asking about my relationship status? It's weird."

 **Misty Waterflower** : "...Well, you are about that age."

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Besides, weren't you a little curious about everyone else?"

Ash thought back to his time spying on his friends pages, and pursed his lips guilty.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "...maybe."

 **Misty Waterflower:** "See, it's a normal occurrence. At our age everyone is getting paired off, and everyone wants to know about it."

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "I don't really want people to know all that stuff lol." He didn't know was 'lol' meant, but Misty used it after a sudden notion, he could only assume it meant something along the lines of hopelessness, or something.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "I mean, you don't really post anything, either. Daisy just tags you in a lot of stuff and you comment a lot."

 **Misty Waterflower** : "You're such a pokebook stalker. This coming from you is rich~ lol" _What did that mean?_

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "What does that mean?"

 **Misty Waterflower** : "It just means for someone who wants to stay so uncharacteristically 'private' you abuse the nature of the website." Still confused, Ash went on to ask what she meant, but she beat him to it.

 **Misty Waterflower:** "C'mon, Ash. You like being kept in the loop."

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "OK fine. I like to be in the loop. I only wish people would tell me in person, or something. It feels weird suddenly that I'm just supposed to know these things because it's plastered online. I tell people when something happens to me."  
 **Misty Waterflower** : "No you don't!"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "OK, but I tell my mom, and she tells everyone. It's pretty much the same thing."  
 **Misty Waterflower** : "And how do you think she tells everyone?" Ash stared at his smart-dex for a long time, watching her text wiggle at him in the darkness of his bedroom. Clemont's words came back to him _Science is great_ , he never realized how connected everyone was before this, with something as small and insignificant as a glorified paperweight.

 **Misty Waterflower:** "Anyways, that comment was deleted, so no more worries about people knowing your personal life or anything, I have to get back to the main floor. I'm sure Daisy is simply dying without me." Ash hesitated, biting his bottom lip.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "What about you?"

 **Misty Waterflower** : "What about me?"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Are you, you know, seeing someone?"

 **Misty Waterflower: "** hahaha. I see lots of someones everyday, Ash." He groaned outwardly, fidgeting in his bed and gnawing like a rapid dog on his lower lip.

 **Misty Waterflower** : "And you should already know, you stalked my page after all, didn't you?"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "I did not stalk your page!"

 **Misty Waterflower:** "It's okay, I stalked you, too. ;)" A chill ran down every bone in his spine and he swallowed hard, a blush rising to his cheeks while he saw the little bubble indicating she was typing more, and waited anxiously.

 **Misty Waterflower: "** Your 'about' section was soooo intricate. Full of lots of details about your personal life. I especially loved the default profile picture of pikachu that you picked. It's adorbs."

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "I didn't know what to write. Besides, I'm deleting this after tonight, anyways. Brock said I only had to give it a try for a week, and if I didn't like it I could get rid of it."

 **Misty Waterflower** : "You don't like it?"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "This place is not for me, Mist."

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Why not? Lol, think about it, when was the last time we talked before this?" His eyebrows rose while he blinked at his smart-dex, that was a great question. He didn't remember. A year at least. He might have talked with her on the phone sometime between then, Brock tried to do group calls sometimes; but between Ash and Misty's schedules...

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "But everyone is so nosy."

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Then use it to just talk to me? People can't be nosy right now."

 **Misty Waterflower: "** Err, you know, I mean everyone. Like talk to me and...everyone else."

A playful grin tugged at Ash's mouth while he leaned back.

 **Ashton B. Ketchu** m: "Tried that. Melody ruined it."  
 **Misty Waterflower** : "Melody's a gossip. She always has been—don't you remember"

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Actually, never mind. But anyways, don't worry about her. You're just shiny and new. You'll get used to it."

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Will I? I dunno... I think I might need some convincing, Mist."

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Don't you take that text with me!"

Ash snorted, rolling over to bury his head into his pillow. He felt so secretive, and weird, and burning up on the inside. It was a wonderfully catastrophic sensation that made him lick his lips in excitement.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "I'll tell you what! If you come visit, I'll keep the stupid account active. It won't do much though, I won't have signal outside of cities, and I spend most of my time in a forest."

She started typing once, for awhile. Ash watched the dots emerge, then disappear, then appear again, until finally:

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Okay" Seemed to take her an awfully long time to write a four letter word!

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "OK?"

 **Misty Waterflower** : "I'll come visit." His heart flipped.

 **Ashton B. Ketchum:** "Really? That's great! When can you be here?"

 **Misty Waterflower** : "Well, if I take the train, a few hours?"

 **Ashton B. Ketchum** : "Awesome, then I'll see you soon!"

 **Misty Waterflower: "**..yea"

 **XOX**

 **Misty Waterflower** posted on your timeline:

 **Ash Ketchum** and **Misty Waterflower** are in a relationship. Send them your thoughts?

"Thanks for helping me change my name. If I had someone else ask me about the B in my middle name, I was going to lose my mind." Ash mouthed into Misty's hair while she laid against his chest on the couch. She was pleasantly engrossed in her own smart-dex while Ash held his up as if it were a science experiment.

"Earth to Misty?" He peeked over her shoulder to see her phone screen, which she immediately ducked out of his line of sight.

"I think I'll delete my account." She said boldly, and Ash stared at her, flabbergasted.

"What? Like hell!"  
"Have you read the comments yet?"

Ash paused. "...no."

Misty nodded, "Then give me your phone, you don't need to!"

"Read them? Why not?" Ash asked innocently, pursing his lips at her.

"Our friends have some serious issues!"

"Well I could have- What did they say?"

"Nothing!"

"It can't be that bad." He urged while clicking open the screen to the news feed announcement, following the notification prompts, and immediately clicking away.

"...So deleting accounts?"

"Yeah-huh." Misty nodded, "I think you were right. We should have told everyone in person."  
"See, I told you social media was stupid!"

Misty rolled her eyes at him. "You sound like a dinosaur."

" _You're older than me!_ "

 **Author's Note** :

It's been too long. -dies inside- I haven't been able to write because I've been so busy, but, I've been trying to catch up the last couple of days; I hope I do well!

Anyways, AshPli requested a "facebook in pokemon" one-shot, and I wasn't sure what to write at first. I checked out "pokebook" by Levi Ackerman (Just Chapter 7, actually), annnnd I thought it was pretty funny! But It's not so much in my writing style, so I hope this did your request some justice?

I was going to originally have Ash accidentally confess in a public space, but then I was like "This whole story is cliché, I don't want to have a major cliché like that." I kind of copied Miss Levi Ackerman's format!

Dawn is that girl who uses emoticons and exclamation points FOR EVERYTHING. May is the one who only comments when she can talk about food or gloat. Brock is the mother hen. Gary is an ass. Misty is an internet Troll. Daisy is the fawning Sister. Melody is a nosy individual. Paul never comments, but he chronically likes things.

Some people believe Ash's writing would be atrocious, and while I think he's dense, I don't think he's dumb as far as writing goes. Have you seen the episodes where he draws? I think he would be competent enough to string together a few sentences easily enough.

I have quite a few Mad Season chapters damn near complete, including several older requests; I've just been iffy on updating them for some reason! I don't know what's wrong with me! So, I've decided I'm just going to update whatever since I think everything I'm writing has been bad lately, we can all suffer together? (laughs hysterically and dies)


	16. Chapter 16: Kissing season

Pairing: Ash/Misty (sort of?)

Rating: T

Genre: Humor/Romance

Summary: In which Ash shows Misty how they say goodbye in Kalos!

Requested by: (Crywonder, sort of?)

For Mrs. Nose, who was pretty sad about the ending!

 **XOX**

The flight home from the Kalos region was a long one. Coupled with long goodbyes to great companions, endless experiences were added to his ever growing list of adventures, and now, at the end of another great journey, it was time once again, to hang up his hat before his next great adventure

"Mom, I'm home!" He called to the woman of the house, a small glimmer in his eye upon the scent of a freshly cooked meal. Clemont's cooking was phenomenal, but nothing could have ever compared to his mother's home-cooked meals made especially for his return to Pallet Town.

"Welcome home!" Her contagious, chirping voice boomed from the kitchen while she turned the corner to face her adolescent son.

He was the picture of perfect health. After another year in another region, facing new enemies and rivals, he was home once again. A large, torn up, young man, but safely home. With a careful hand, Delia wiped at a stray tear in her eye, _he looked so much older!_

"You're back!" She whined, rushing forward to collapse her arms around the boy and his pikachu, earning an earnest, warm hug in return.

"I missed you, mom!" Ash exclaimed. "How have you been?"

"Oh, the same ol' same ol', but forget that, tell me about your journey, did you meet anyone new?"

"Did I ever!" Ash practically shouted, pumping his fist up as his mother led him into the kitchen to fill the once empty house with tales of glory.

 **XOX**

Waking up the next morning was a bit more difficult. He was undeniably jet lagged from the time change left over from the airplane, and his body was feeling the repercussions more now than ever. Actually, his body started feeling a lot of bad decisions once his head hit the pillow of his soft bed last night, and his clothes were discarded on the floor after a hot shower. But the region was over, and he only hoped to be better next time.

Only noticing now, that the sun invaded his personal space, and pikachu was curled up at the base of his bed, did he realize how sore he really was. The way his muscles ached in every turn and the temptation to sleep for another eight hours rose from the corners of his heart. How quickly he became a lazy slowpoke when the turnover of a new journey was not immediately present.

His mother talked about Alola once or twice— _school_ \- but he didn't fancy the idea of attending a school for pokemon on an island out in the middle of nowhere when he could _clearly_ just go to another one of the closer regions and compete in another league for another chance to lose in the finale.

 _Was he still bitter about that_? Ash groaned, slowly sitting up in his bed as the comforter fell to his bare waste. He wore pants, but he hadn't the energy to pull on a shirt after his shower last night; he was lucky that he made it to the bed at all. If his mom hadn't been shouting at him, he might have taken a nap on the rug on the washroom floor, and called it a day.

 _He was tired_! Years training with no breaks, when he came home, laziness was too addictive.

"Pikaaaaaa." The mouse yawned with a tired squeak while turning over to hide his face from the light. Ash squinted to the yellow rodent and exhaled. At least pikachu shared his sentiments.

"You got the right idea, buddy." Ash mumbled tiredly in return. "Let's have another nap." He added, a goofy smile spread over his lips while he fell back into the confinement of his bed, and lapped the blankets around his entire body and embraced the gentle, calming nature of sleep once more.

Then,

"ASH!" His mom shouted from the living room below, and a very unpleasant noise escaped his lips; akin to a strangled animal.

"...Wwwwwhat?" He groaned while pulling the covers over his head and swearing to the holy gods he was going to fake some kind of illness if it meant a few more hours in bed.

"You have friends on their way to see you."

Ash's ears twitched, and he turned over to glare at his open door.

"Which friends?" Ash shouted back down to her. It didn't really matter who the friend was, but –his mind flashed a certain blonde in mild distress—but did not know why. He liked all of his friends, why would he be anxious around any of them?

After a pause—she was more than likely cleaning up after last night's dinner and television watching session—she called up:

"Misty and Brock, I think? She left a voice mail yesterday-!"

Then as if Ash were lightning himself, he bolted from his bed and made sure he was clean and proper for the inevitable meeting of his former companions.

 **XOX**

Since Ash usually had the patience of a toddler, waiting was near-physically impossible. To pass the time until his former companions arrived, he stopped in at the laboratory to visit the rest of his pokemon at Professor Oak's lab. Apparently, they all missed him because when faced with leaving to have lunch with his mother, they wouldn't let him go without a fight. Ash had to claw his way free from his pokemon, and make his way back to his mom's house with a hole in his sweater-that's right, Ash Ketchum only had a dorky blue sweater to wear until his mom finished his new clothes—and his hat missing. (Bayleef ran off with it at some point, but he wasn't inclined to chase her for it.)

Apparently over the last year, he outgrew everything else he owned. Therefore, mother's 'fat pants' and blue-sweater were his go-to attire.

"Mooom," Ash almost whined from the front door when he entered his house, hand stuck into the sweater and extending out to indicate the large hole that his pokemon somehow managed to tear into the knit. She was going to be livid.

"You're gonna kill me—but—" when his eyes rose from the ground where he contemplated the serious hole in his wardrobe, they met with cerulean green staring back at him and his heart skipped a beat... and he might have felt pretty silly with his hand poking out of the torso like a trapped animal.

"Misty?" he asked while said woman sprung at him in elation.

"Ash!" her voice rang cheerful in his ears while her strong hands clasped his shoulders and pikachu squeaked gleefully.

"Pika!" the mouse chirped at her while changing shoulders.

Senses overloaded, hand still awkwardly poking out of his sweater and the other dangling defenselessly at his side while the redhead shook him, he wasn't quite sure of the words coming out of her mouth other than she was very, _very_ close to him, and for some weird reason, that was uncomfortable.

He wasn't the only one that had changed a lot—her hair was a bit longer, she wore a yellow hoodie with no sleeves, and green shorts not unlike the ones she used to wear—only longer. Her side pony tail was a bit straighter, _longer_ , and hung limp off center her part, but it was her face that really got him. Gone were the child-like pudge she collected there over the years, and staring back at him was _a young, fit woman_ , grinning from ear to ear.

"-Greninja?" She finished, the pokemon's name being spoken snapping him from his stupor.

"What?" He wondered while she released him and took a calculated step backwards; clearly, the excitement of seeing him again was drowned out by his own lackluster reaction to see her, and she blinked several times.

"I asked where greninja was? You know, water pokemon, water pokemon trainer—hello?" She gestured to Ash, then to herself, as if it made perfect sense that he would have shown her greninja.

Without thinking, he instinctively reached for the ball, then realized that he, in fact, no longer had it, and laughed in spite of himself.

"Well, the thing about that..."

Her shoulders slumped in her yellow, sleeveless hoodie. Ash was certain that her side pony tail might have even deflated just the slightest at her deflated movements.

"You released him, didn't you?" She groaned throwing her head back and whining.

"Well, yes, but I'm sure he'll come back some day. You can meet him then."

A noise crossed between a strangled groan and a flustered sigh escaped her lips while she brushed her hand through her hair; a noise only Misty managed to make. She was the only person that could be happy to see him, and so frustrated at the same time. Ash was grinning before he knew it himself. His muscles reacted naturally.

"Man... you finally had a fully evolved water pokemon, and you don't even-" She stopped herself, finally realizing the should-have-been intimate moment between the two of them after four long years of absence, and her lips finally pursed.

Seeing him for the first time. Taller, much taller—not quite as tall as she was, but catching up. She had grown easily another foot since they were ten, and Ash was no different. His shoulders were broad and square, and aside from the very feminine choice in clothing, he appeared _a little_ more masculine—might have even had a bit of scruff growing on his square chin! He looked nice.

Rather than telling him that, the same old mock tone framed her words. "Nice clothes," She grinned. "New style for you?"

"Shut up." He retorted instantly, a fair word he hadn't used in a _very_ long time.

Then, as the moment re-settled into casual, normal conversation, they both smiled like maniacs.

"It's been so long!" Misty gasped, the first to say exactly what he was thinking.

"I know! How has life as a gym leader been?" He looked around expectantly, recalling his mother's very plural use of the word _friends_. "Is Brock here, too?"

"Brock?" Misty echoed, touching her fingers to her lips—why would he notice that?-and crinkling her nose, "No, he couldn't make it because of school, but he did give me something to give to you." Misty maneuvered around Ash so naturally, to her satchel she stashed on the coat rack beside the front door.

"Ooh, presents." Ash mused playfully while pikachu squeaked.

"He didn't tell me what was inside, just to keep it away from the pool." Misty handed Ash the small container, wrapped in a traditional white cloth and his stomach jumped.

"I haven't had these in forever." He noted, snatching the box from Misty greedily, and hording the object away from her.

"Well maybe if you'd visit more than once every three years..." She chided, poking her finger into her ear to glare daggers down at him, a feat he returned with skill he might have otherwise lost.

"I forgot how much I missed this." Ash added sarcastically while tearing open the box to reveal a careful collection of sorted and neatly arranged...

Destroyed dumplings.

"I might have dropped it a few times." Misty added while Ash spun at her, tears in his eyes.

"Misty!" He whined, "These were Brock's fried dumplings!"

She didn't look impressed, hands on her slim waists and determined to look away from him while both he and pikachu quite possibly over reacted. The rodent melted from her shoulder, betrayed by her accidental mishandling of the food.

"Well, maybe he should mention that next time. I wasn't aware it was food." her face twitched, "Then again, it is _you_ , so I should have just assumed..."  
"Hey." He muttered, meeting her glare. No real hostility to one another, just a slow reaching smile before they both started to laugh.

 **XOX**

Misty hadn't changed too much, at least, not emotionally. She was still the same hot-headed, sarcastic fire breathing water dragon, but she looked _different_. After spending a few years away; with a coordinator who cared more about her looks than sleep, a wild woman who could care less, and then Serena, who looked like a portrait (according to Bonnie) twenty four seven, upon better inspection, Misty was a breath of fresh air.

She rode her bike into Pallet Town—Ash only laughed a little—and in such a manner, she had scuff marks on her bare knees, dirt on her ankles and sun marks over her limbs. Pale as she was, she burned if left in the sun for too long, and according to his mother, she was only in Viridian City when he arrived; and decided she would stop in since she was already out.

Her attire, though Ash couldn't fathom why he would notice, was basic. Practical, sensible Misty was always reliable to remind him of the simplicity of the Kanto region, where fancy, amazing pokemon trainers were more traditional. More like him.

By the afternoon, they had gone over a million times the pokemon Ash met in Kalos, Ash introduced Misty to new members of the gang—though she was still disappointed about not meeting Greninja, she was pleased with meeting goodra. Delia cooked lunch, and for a little while, it was as if nothing changed since they were kids.

...but as the morning ended, he realized that there were _little_ things that had changed between them.

The way she shifted when he came to close—which was odd—they used to touch all the time. Or how she never really met his eyes for longer than a second, and her stories were always about _how wonderful_ it was at the gym. She didn't complain much, or vent—she hardly mentioned her sisters, and outside of cooing over water pokemon, they didn't talk about much else.

That afternoon, they sat around the deck staring into the meadow and contemplated having a pokemon battle. Ash really wanted to battle his old friend, but she claimed that she only had corsola with her, and did not seem as inspired as he was. Actually, she seemed only half-as-passionate she once was, and he wasn't sure why that bothered him so. Maybe it was just because it _had_ been so long since they last met.

"If you keep getting runner-up, you're not going to get to your dream." She grumbled, face squished into the palm of her hand while she gnawed on the inside of her cheek.

"Hey—I improve a little bit every time."

"At this rate, _I'm_ going to beat you." Misty hummed, reminding Ash that in a way, they, too, were rivals.

"What happened to all that talk about you being _better_?" Ash joked, grinning back at her.

"Oh, I am, but that's beside the point."  
Then, as quickly as things became normal, they grew awkward as conversation topics grew scarce.

They were never really the best at _talking_. Their charm lied within their bickering, but they didn't have much to bicker about anymore. No middle ground—nothing in common.

Ash wasn't who he used to be five years ago, and neither was she. Now that he looked at her, physical appearance really was the least changed of their lives.

Ash was a more mature, more patient and accepting individual that learned to put himself aside for the greater good, whereas, Misty was less tempered, goodhearted and driven than he remembered. She talked about water pokemon in much of the same light as before, only _now_ , she actually knew more than he ever could have imagined—quirks about certain ones that could tip the scale in her favor in battles. She was still smart, and they were slowly reaching their goals—but something felt _off_.

Maybe if Brock had been around, their meeting wouldn't have been so stressful, but Ash felt like he was walking on pins and needles every time he looked up at her. The light of the day did not quite reach her eyes, and the way her lips fell into a natural frown made his skin crawl.

After years of separation, she sat right beside him—but she never felt further away. A different path, using the gym as her foundation, other goals, new friends—a huge job and responsibility; and where was he at? Another league in the ground and out a powerful pokemon.

Had Misty been around even a year ago, Ash might have mentioned these aforementioned ideas to her so she could quickly dismiss them and encourage him that he will get there some day. He wasn't so sure now.

Looking up at her once more, the image of a sparkling blonde crossed his mind, and he somehow felt very disappointed—maybe a little ashamed that Misty was sitting so close to him; and he unconsciously moved away.

 **XOX**

When the start of twilight began, she was off to route one, tugging her bike along with her. Delia insisted that he and pikachu walk her to the end of the town, and so they traveled together in silence. Ash wasn't the best at reading people—there was still a lot he did not understand—but he thought that she might have looked a little sad as the day went on.

Maybe she noticed that something was off, too?

"So," He felt obligated to speak to clear the suffocation air around them. "Do you ever leave the gym to travel at all?"

"Sometimes, mostly just around Johto and Kanto regions—some times I get out to Hoenn to-"

Ash choked, not intentionally, at the mention of _hoenn_ from Misty's lips—how often did she go there? Often enough that she might, well, run into a certain blonde?

Seeing the apparent panic on his distressed face—she came to a stop, clicked down the kick stand and whirled to face him with her hands on her hips.

"Alright, Ash Ketchum." She inhaled, eyebrows knit carefully, lips pursed and jaw cocked. "What's wrong with you? You're acting like a stranger—some buffoon or something! Spit it out, whatever it is!"

Confused, Ash's brow crinkled.

"Spit what out? I haven't done anything!" He insisted while she stomped her foot into the soil, eliciting crunching noises while pikachu twitched and cowered behind his trainer.

"Well you've done something, I can see it on your face! You've been weird around me the whole day!"

"Well so have you!"

"I have not! You're the one who keeps zoning out and making googly eyes randomly whenever I mention-"

"I am not!" Ash denied, interrupting her—and act that made her twice as enraged. He couldn't stop himself, though.

"You're the one who decided to stop in willy-nilly!" When they were kids, the words would have had the desired effects, Misty's face jarring to one side and her shoulders leaning back.

"Well!" She snapped, reeling away from him. "I guess I shouldn't have even bothered after all!" She shouted, throwing up her arms and dragging her bike along with her. "Just forget about it, you don't have to pretend to be my friend anymore! Not like you were for the last three years, anyways!"

Shock, or surprise crossed into his eyes while he watched her back leave him. Shoulders high, head low and her feet scuffing the rocks in a hurry to get away from him. The way she spoke caused him to flinch—followed immediately by guilt. Why did he say that? He didn't mean that!

Why did she always get under his friggin skin!?

"Misty, wai-"

"Prepare for trouble!" They always came at the worst time, didn't they?

Upon hearing the motto, Misty stopped immediately, and Ash thought better—actually, they couldn't have picked a _better_ time.

"Make it double-"

"Jessie and James?!" Misty's sour mood dissipated quickly and Ash breathed a sigh of relief while she turned to where they had emerged from the forest line, holding some new pokemon-catching contraption. Misty's hands fell on their hips while James and Jessie shrieked about disrupting their motto, but meowth, unaware it was, jumped forward.

"Meowth that's right!"

"You guys are _still_ following this _brat_ around?" Misty laughed, jabbing Ash with the new nickname.

"H-hey, I'm not a brat." He urged though no solace made itS way to Misty's eye.

"Oh, no, it's the original twerp." Jessie mouthed, pointing to Misty and then indicating to her own maroon-red hair. James crossed his arms.

"Didn't you two break up?" With a smirk he watched as Misty's right eye twitched dangerously.

"Yeah, we thought after that ki-"

"Agghh!" Ash shouted immediately at the start of the 'k' word! _No one was supposed to mention the 'k' word!_ Not that he ever thought of it!

His sudden outburst drew the attention of Team Rocket.

"Oooh, what's this? She doesn't know?" Meowth grinned and Ash pumped his fists up.

"Shut up! It's not like that!"

"Not like what?" Misty hissed, siding temporarily with Team Rocket. "So you are keeping secrets!"

"What's it matter to you, you said we weren't friends anymore!"

"Well, hey!" She started in her defense, "That's because you were-"

While the duo was distracted, Jessie and James looked to one another, then to meowth, and then to pikachu who was helplessly watching his two favorite trainers bark at one another very loudly in the middle of a thievery, and Team Rocket took their chance. They pounced at pikachu, catching him in their cheapest invention yet; a metal container, lined with rubber so he couldn't cut or zap them!

"Wait, Pikachu!" Ash screamed, realizing their motive right away.

Misty didn't hesitate to follow after Ash, after Team Rocket who were a good ten feet in front of them.

"This is your fault!" Ash was quick to blame while Misty huffed.

"My fault!? He's your pokemon! Take better care of them!"

"I take great care of my pokemon!" He screamed back at her and Misty huffed in response, coming to a complete stop.

"It's fine, I'll take care of it." Misty whipped her bag around to reveal a fully-loaded belt of pokemon, and Ash had never felt more betrayed in his life.

"You have _all_ of your pokemon?"

"What kind of gym leader would I be if I didn't leave prepared?" Misty chanted, removing a blue and red ball and launching it with great effort and speed to surpass Team Rocket's lead.

"You said you didn't have—you lied to me!"

"Yeah, well I didn't want to kick your butt so soon after a defeat! Maybe if you had greninja-"

"So that's what you came here for?"

While they bickered, at Team Rocket's end, a very large, very angry gyarados appeared from the pokeball Misty carried—red in color and Ash shrieked while a chill ran down his spine.

"Gyarados, use water gun!" Misty shouted and the giant pokemon leered back to prepare.

"I choose life!" James shouted, releasing pikachu with a great thrust back in Ash's general direction where the raven-haired young man raced to catch him.

"James don't!"

"We don't have any pokemon Jessie!" He whined and meowth clawed himself onto Jessie and James' shoulder.

"Enough of that, prepare for impact!" the cat yelled while the water torpedoed out of gyarados' mouth, collided violently with them, and pushed the trio back to Ash and Misty, where she hovered over them, grinning.

"Did you miss me?" She mocked them, much to their disgruntled anger while Ash released pikachu from his little entrapment. The three of them were appalled by her statement, and growled in return.

"I'm sorry, buddy." said Ash remorsefully.

"Pika, pikachupi pika!" The mouse chirped, grinning at Misty while the two of them stood up to stare down Team Rocket once again. The trio were already on their feet, fists raised while Misty and Ash both crossed their arms confidently.

"So, do you want to _blast off again_ , or should you just run for the hills?" Misty chanted, earning a willful smirk from Ash while the trip flinched visibly, knowing without looking at the lumbering, pseudo dragon pokemon was already inching towards them.

"We'lla git you next time!" Meowth hollered, poking out his paws to claw his companions, and they darted into the woods, leaving Ash and Misty alone to handle their _relationship_ issues.

Once the trio were in the forest, the two of them let out a playful sigh then looked at one another.

There was supposed to be some kind of companionship a sense of gratitude and gratification that once they looked at one another the arguments would clear up, they would be as they were—yet, when Ash looked up at her green eyes, nothing was there.

Nothing but the wide gap that forged between them between three long years of absence. What in the world was he thinking? Would this happen with Brock, too? Misty was a part of his family, and he barely recognized her anymore; that intense gaze in her eyes, how confident she stood while watching him with what he expected were the same thoughts.

They were miles apart, separated by a canyon, and the only way over was a thin, unraveling rope splitting hairs at the center.

"Misty, I-" Ash started, the excitement ended and emotions running high. He felt like he needed to say something— _wanted to—_ anything would have felt better than what he was feeling right now.

"I think maybe we should-"

"Pikachu!" The mouse hissed, leaping from Ash's shoulder and jumping a foot higher than the two of them to let out a bolt of lighting so intense, so destructive that it connected to leaves, igniting them, and bounced to the only source of metal around them.

"My bike!" Misty shrieked, hands shooting up while the small pokemon hit the dirt and looked up at his trainer.

Ash, meanwhile, was pale as a ghost, stomach flipping and face twitching.

"...Pikachu, what did you just do?" He questioned while the mouse then happily scampered away between Misty's legs so she wouldn't throttle the pokemon, and down the road back to Delia's house. Misty turned at him first, recalled gyarados and screamed.

"What the hell! That bike was expensive!"

At those words, Ash felt his world slowly start to crumble. Memories flooded in, and the urge to laugh mixed with the urge to hide.

"Ketchum!" She screamed violently, turning at him with narrowed eyes, compared to his wide eyes.

"I—I...I gotta go!" he managed weakly before scampering as quickly as humanly possible away from the fiery redhead.

"You owe me a new bike!" She screamed, pointing at the ruined heap that sat on top of the hill in a broken mess.

 **XOX**

Misty didn't leave right away, she told on him first.

 _Of course she did_ , she told Delia everything—that he was keeping secrets, about that time he didn't change his underwear, how much of a _potty mouth_ he had, and the fact that he owed her now for two bikes—the first one didn't count because technically Nurse Joy replaced it, but this one was a high tech, innovative bike she paid with out of her own pocket to withstand the greatest hills and the worst terrain.

Delia was simply appalled that Ash would ever be so destructive! And with pikachu, too! She was going to have a word with the two of them while Misty gathered her paperwork and details for a train pass the next morning.

When his mother walked into the room, Ash was seated at the edge of the couch, chin cradled in his hands and pikachu asleep at his side. Everyone _loved_ pikachu, Misty didn't blame him _at all_. No, it was Ash's fault even though it _was_ pikachu who released an unsolicited thunderbolt without Ash's instruction. Pikachu didn't even explain why he did it—just that he was confused and trying to help with Team Rocket.

What a liar! Ash thought while glaring down at his long-time companion. If he survived the next conversation, he was going to have _words_ with the pokemon.

Then, Delia walked in, and leaned over the couch to look at her teenage son, eyebrows raised and lips puckered into a sort of smile. The way the living room's light reflected off her features, he felt his skin crawl. He was a dead man.

Goodbye cruel world—dreams of being a pokemon master, goodbye! Then she spoke.

"Oh, Ash." She sighed. "You're so much like your father. Just make sure you don't do anything too stupid next time, okay?" She cooed, pinched his cheek, left a brief kiss there, then left immediately.

 _That was it_?!

Misty came around the corner a second later, more disgruntled than she had been before. Her hair was let down, revealing the short bob that framed her face, and an intense glare that made his skin crawl. Without knowing it, his face flushed immediately, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat.

"Well, I hope you're happy! I can't leave until tomorrow morning now." Misty grunted, flicking him on the nose to bring his attention back to her.

 _He had been spacing out a lot today_.

"Sorry..." He managed weakly, unable to hold his gaze while his heart hurt so badly.

 _He didn't want to talk to her about anyone_.

"Sorry? You ruined my bike, _again!_ I let the last one slide because it was replaced, but do you know how long I spent saving up this time?"

Watching her complain at him, his stomach churned quietly. The way her face pulled into a scowl, the _cute_ crinkle of her nose and twitch in her left eye when she had nothing more to say made his head foggy, and his palms sweaty.

"I—uh.." He mumbled, earning her attention. Her solid gaze on him now, he didn't feel like a couch was far enough away and he sunk backwards.

"Serena wouldn't have tattled on me!" He hissed in his best defense, though Misty's eyebrow quirked, and a new door opened flood gates.

"Who's Serena?" She asked skeptically, shoulders back while the apparent flush over Ash's cheeks dissipated.

"A girl I met in Kalos."

"Really?" Misty questioned, flipping over the back of the couch with a greater interest while her shoulders relaxed, and she crossed her arms and settled into the seat beside him.

"I meant to ask you earlier, how was Kalos, anyways? You know I love the French-like qualities they have there—I've always meant to visit but..."

His eyes widened for a moment, remembering all the details of their first travel—almost three years spent together and practically inseparable. The canyon between them shrunk just a few inches when Ash sat forward.

"I guess I skipped a lot of that, huh?"  
"We were pretty focused on pokemon, to be fair."

"Which reminds me, you have _all of your pokemon_ , we need to battle!"

Misty sighed, "Tomorrow. It's too dark outside right now."

"Where did you find a red gyarados, anyways?"  
"I thought we were going to talk about the Kalos region?"

"After!"

"Ash.." She sighed, amazed at his one-track mind before she grinned at him.

They were going to have a lot to talk about tonight, after all.

 **XOX**

The following morning went by quickly, Delia made breakfast, Misty slept on the couch after Delia insisted that they were too old to share a room now. Then after a long night, Misty was preparing to leave once more. At some point, Gary, Tracey and Oak had made their way over to see the redhead, for some reason, no one wanted to join in yesterday's commotion, though Ash would have killed for a third wheel at that point.

Pikachu was disappointed greatly that she was still leaving after yesterday's light show. So much so, he spent the afternoon whining about how _unfair_ it was, and telling Ash to make more time.

Ash didn't understand why, they were up until ungodly hours of the night talking about everything—making up for lost time, sharing stories— _real_ stories about their struggles to reach their goals, their emotional distress, new people they've met, and everything in between. But.. Ash understood, it wasn't _long_ enough. Misty was like a heat wave in the middle of winter, without it, he froze.

By the time goodbyes were being had, the awkwardness, hard feelings and general discomfort passed, and they were as good as normal. So much so that Misty even shoved him on her way out of his house.

"Don't forget to wire me money." She warned him, pointing with a well manicured finger, directly to his face.

"I won't forget."

"And you can use that time to call sometimes, too."

Flustered she was announcing this in front of his friends—though he had _nothing to hide,_ after all—he looked away from her and crossed his arms.

"I might."  
"You better!" Misty hissed while passing a heartfelt goodbye with Delia, and smiling happily to the older woman who became something like a surrogate mother to Misty over the years.

Now the goodbye felt right, _familiar_ , like he was being kicked in the stomach repeatedly and he wanted to hurl. There was a reason he didn't call her often—each new meeting with the redhead left sore reminder of his long-lost companions, and if he _didn't_ know how busy she was, he might have asked her to come with him to save himself the misery.

 _But never in front of his mother,_ he didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea!

Seeing that he had been zoned out again, Misty brought him back with a gentle punch to the shoulder and nudged him carefully.

"If you get the chance, you should swing by the Cerulean City gym, and we'll have that rematch?" Her grin was earth shattering, and made his heart thunder in his chest.

For once, he was grateful he didn't understand the full working cogs behind his reactions—because this one felt scary and unreal.

"I'll catch you later, okay?" Misty tossed quickly twisting a wave, then a nod, at the three four watchers of her goodbye—people she saw three times more often than she ever saw Ash, and his heart leaped into his throat.

"H-hey." Ash stammered, then quickly swallowed back his nervousness. Why was he nervous, though? "I forgot something else about Kalos-" Ash grabbed her hand, keeping her in place before releasing her once he had her attention.

"Oh?" She blinked curiously, their conversation about Kalos was the leading topic of last night. Though Ash would never admit that Misty's infatuation with Kalos was the reason he kept bringng it up. Yet, he missed one of the most important parts that he, himself, was still awestruck over.  
"How they say goodbye—" He didn't really deliver the message well before cutting himself off. He didn't think much about it, after all, he wasn't thinking with his head—undeniably thinking with his heart—However, he would tell anyone who asked him that he wasn't thinking at all.

After all, it was _normal._ Misty loved the Kalos region—she should _know_ how they said goodbye!

...but, this _didn't_ just feel like a brief parting; if Misty said goodbye to someone like this, Ash might have actually been fairly upset. Slowly Ash realized everything in the split second his lips touched Misty's— _how grave a mistake he had just made._ He knew at that very moment, that he, Ash Ketchum, was the largest imbecile on the planet. What in the _world_ kind of excuse was that!?

When he moved away from her, he _knew_ not to let that thought reach his eyes as mixed emotions from his childhood played back like a broken record. How had he forgotten so many things about a kiss—that _wasn't_ normal, that wasn't a goodbye—Serena liked him!

And then she kissed him and he didn't know until he kissed..

Holy shit, he just _kissed_ Misty!

He just used the 'k' word.

When he moved away from her, he tried not to look mortified, but Misty's expression reflected everything his heart was screaming. Horror, awestruck, wide eyes and a beet-red face he was somehow keeping crammed at the very corner of his mind. Her hands shook at her sides and she might have screamed if Delia didn't beat her to it.

"Who told you that's how you say goodbye to young women, Ash!?" Delia screeched loudly, and he personally thanked the heavens for the intervention.

He could handle his mother, but if Misty looked at him again, he might have passed out from emotional-exertion.

He kissed Misty, Serena kissed him, and everything immediately became way more complicated. Though, he would never tell _her_ that.

 **XOX**

Somewhere off in the Hoenn region, Serena, who just stepped off of her boat and into the new region held her red hat on her head and looked forward with determination. A new journey, a new adventure, and a million ways to become a better person and trainer. The next time she and Ash met, she would be everything and more.

Hustling down the steps to the dock, she hummed to herself with a skip in her step. Contests were her new goal, becoming a stronger, and more determined young woman was her second, and her third was somehow convincing Ash that he loved her, as much as she loved him.

Yet, when her foot touched the board walk, a heavy shiver ran down her spine, and she looked up to listen to what sounded like the faint sound of Ash screaming?

...What in the world.

 **Author's Note** :

Head canons:

Ash isn't lazy, but he isn't opposed to having a 'lazy' day sleeping in when there isn't a demand for him to do anything else.

Ash and Delia off-camera totally have a perfect son and mom relationship where they stay up all night swapping war stories and watching tv and eating popcorn because Ash is a mommas boy and you should love the poor cinnamon roll for it.

I was going to write this as if he was still oblivious to EVERYTHING, but even I was starting to get frustrated by his 'dense nature'. No one is that oblivious. (especially if you consider the years of experience he has behind him?)

The way I took it (And you would have to PM me to talk further) Ash didn't understand what exactly it was that Serena had done, or what it meant to her. And if he -did- understand, his reaction following his 'sparkling eyes' was enough to demonstrate that he didn't think of her in that way(? At least, if you include his previous experiences.) Ash was just heavily living in denial, because no way would anyone try to romance him, right? That denial is slowly broken down through this short fic.

Let me know what you thought about the scene? I'm not saying it wasn't a special scene for amourshippers, but there was a lot to be left up to the viewers and imagination, and mine is that Ash would put it out of his mind, then slowly come to terms with it during the worst possible moment ever.

I'm not sorry.

NINT


	17. Chapter 17: Dark Souls

Pairing: Ash/Misty (?)

Genre: Mystery/Adventure

Rating: T

Summary: In which Pokemon meets Dark souls

 **XOX**

 _Welcome, champion of ash_

After death, not all of us die.

 _Unkindled one_ , _rise_.

Long ago live an old lore about the world: when pokemon died, their souls fell into a permanent stasis of limbo. A world unable to move forward in time, only backwards. It was the Chosen One's job to save them from such retched hell by linking the five flames, and destroying the Lord Cinders. All humans, who died suddenly would occasionally meet in this world; where the sun never rose past the gated horizon, and scent of embers replaced the scent of rain.

Ash didn't believe it, after all, the world of pokemon was a glorious, and beautiful world of many different styles and culture, of adventures and bright community. Full of love, and light—he never imagined the world would have a mirrored universe, destroyed and unkempt, dark and full of relentless, ever growing smog that forever clung to every surface of the environment. Gray, dark and empty, surrounded by the corroding edges of long lost battles, and graves.

Everything that happened, the world above them separated on behalf of the unkindled world of limbo, stuck as a permanent reminder of great mistakes; the most in depth of them all, a large grave site, masking the deaths of thousands of innocents over the years, that he never realized existed.

 _Save us all_. A voice called to him in the darkness.

Ash wasn't sure what to think of the situation he crawled himself into—quite literally ripping away at the dirt that buried him under soiled and ruined earth until he passed through the dire crevice of the world above him. He stared into hell, a dark, gray area with nothing more than a few shriveled trees racing his presence, and graves as far as he could see.

He might have imagined seeing bodies—but when he called out, his voice dare not travel. A few days ago, he was enjoying a nice, warm, cup of hot cocoa with his mother before the strange occurrences started again. Snow in the summer time, pokemon freaking out—though the only difference was that Shamouti island was hours away, and according to Melody, who he spoke to on the phone—at peace.

It was only here, at his location the world started to chip away with an ice pick.

He wasn't dead, no, Ash could feel his soul sweltering inside him like a long lost fire, burning hotter than he ever felt before. Even so, he woke up here, miles, possibly light years away from Pallet Town.

 _Rise_ , the uncomfortably familiar voice at the back of his head called to him once again, and he finally pulled himself to his knees. Dressed in rags, he didn't recall how he got there, with nothing to defend himself from the darkness, he felt naked beneath his burnt clothes. When he turned around; he was facing his own grave.

 _Ash Ketchum, 1990-2065_ , but the rest was corroded off.

...He didn't _feel_ dead.

How... how had this happened? Scuffing up the back of his neck, he tumbled backwards into the graveyard, tripping over dead and shriveling roots into the gray dirt and silence. His shambling limbs were the only sound echoing through the large area. Above him, he saw nothing but a lightness sky, and endless clouds.

Where in the world was he?

 **XOX**

Ash couldn't be sure how he got there, when he got there, after what felt like a torturous amount of running, _fleeing_ from whatever was behind him. Hungry, deformed _creatures_ chasing him for the embers that burned deep in his bosom. He was trapped against a closed door when he looked upon the shrine before him; nothing more than a grave-keepers mausoleum faced him at the end of the hill, a giant, lumbering tower in an otherwise dim area—no light burned from the inside, no indication of life outside of himself, yet he felt it calling after him, urging him forward with every step.

Shuffling through the dense ground was no easy task, it was as if his basic motor functions were dissociated by sleeping for so long beneath ground. His mind was fuzzy.

He no longer remembered where he was before this, what it was like in a place unlike this one, and he felt so cold, though the world smelled like ash.

Making is way up the lumbering steps of the mausoleum, he questioned parts of his own sanity, if what he was seeing was really _real_ , and everything that fell between it. Specks of white orbs glowed occasionally from the corner of his eye, and sometimes he saw shifting in the new area, but kept as quite as a mouse as to not disturb anyone.

He felt as though he only needed to reach the top, and all of his questions would be answered.

Once there, he pushed through a cracked, wooden door that splintered where he touched it. In the immediate darkness, he was like a candle in the night. What lied ahead was an empty chamber of endless voices; a void to the lost souls of the world, gathered at a single point at the center of the large room, where five chairs sat empty around the chamber.

Unsure, Ash felt compelled to move forward, past the broken steps and destroyed archways, until he, too stood at the center of the room, before what appeared to be a small fire, with a coiled, rusted metal sword at its center.

As he reached out to touch it, the figure of a woman dressed in all black garbs poked out from the darkness beside him, pale hands clutched together before her waist as she looked on at the new-found champion, only-he saw no eyes, only the distinct color of red hair falling in heaps around her face and down her back.

"Welcome, champion of Ash." She reiterated the first words he heard, and his mouth fell open.

"Touch your flame to the sword to begin your journey." She didn't smirk, no facial expression he recalled ever felt so cold. "We have much to discuss."

And just like that, he followed her into the abyss, where he noticed that she had a remarkable glow within her as well.

 _The soul of a fire keeper_.

 **XOX**

Meanwhile, in the real world.

"C'mon, Ash, he's the easiest boss! Just dodge him!"

"I'm _trying_ , Misty!" Ash shouted flicking the controller he held several directions until the character on screen rolled past another huge whip of some growing, black parasite. However, Ash's character didn't move fast enough, because the harrowing, deep scream followed by a punctual.

 _You died._

Ash stared at his screen then lifted his hands up in absolute defeat! He could stop the world form ending, saving people, even _date_ Misty Waterflower and not bat an eye, but a stupid video game was kicking his ass!? He hated these things!

"Here, give it to me, I'll kill him for you." Misty urged, trying to take the controller from his hands. He jerked away from her, causing her to shift practically into his lap from where they were sitting. It was clear that one of his routine visits had branched into a long night of lounging around Misty's apartment, doing nothing in particular because soda cans, chip bags, and garbage strung up around them like a fortress.

Misty bought the most recent, _hip video_ game last week to play with him, and was well over level 100 by the time he came to visit, so her persistent need to _help_ him only made him angrier.

"I can do it myself." he shoved away from her, wiggling the controller close to his lap while he clicked through the loading screen to where his little man on the screen was standing at another fire.

"If you had just made a normal character instead of a deprived."

"I wanted to be challenged!"

"You're mentally challenged." Misty snorted, blowing a strange of hair from her face and receiving a nasty look in return.

"You're ruining the mood." Ash pointed to the screen and Misty rolled her eyes.

"Just because _you_ spent three hours making your character look exactly like you does _not mean_ it's you!"  
"It's a champion of Ash!"

Misty threw her arms up quickly walking from the sofa, to the gaming platform and promptly clicking the off button, much to Ash's anger.

"Hey! I was just getting starting."

"We've been playing for ten hours!" Misty whined. "It's 3:00am, let's go to sleep!"

"But, but!"

"You died 45 times!" She added hotly, and Ash stuck his tongue in cheek at her and sat back.

"Well, so?"

"Go to bed."  
"You're not my mother." He mouthed off to her, tossing the controller onto the coffee table and sitting back to kick his feet up and properly pout in response to her nagging.

Releasing a loud sigh, Misty moved towards him once again, tugging off a blanket from the corner of the couch, and threw it at his face before taking a seat beside him and nuzzling beneath his arm.

"Fine, if you want to play, go ahead, but I'm sleeping."

Enamored by her comical display of affection, Ash snorted. "Go sleep in bed."

"Only if you come with me"

"Miiiiisty, that's not fair."

"No? Then you better get used to playing like this, because I'm not moving."

Ash sighed, looking down at her. She was facing the screen, eyes squeezed closed in her best attempt to burn out the images in her head so she could get to sleep; and Ash huffed.

" _Fine_." He murmured, and Misty moved just a little, believing she had won until Ash leaned forward and snatched the controller again, and used the start button to turn on the console again. She deflated immediately while he grinned triumphantly.

"No worries, Misty, I promise to be quiet." He cheered and Misty groaned.

It was a mistake to show Ash video games.

 **Author's Note**

Only I would do this, right?

Ash would be that guy that gets into every character he makes in a game! He would go out of his way to make sure each character was like, perfectly in sync with himself and it would be a glorious moment because, yeah. Anyways, I was -going- to make an actual story where I put pokemon into dark souls, but that just seems like so much work, that I'm gonna say nah for now and turned it into a big joke. XD

I have a million of these Mad Season chapters (including the requests I've written for people) in a back folder and I just need to edit them. So much to do!

Hope you enjoyed reading!

NINT


	18. Chapter 18: New Years

**Pairing:** Ash/Misty

 **Genre:** Humor/Romance

 **Rated:** M (For Adult humor/situations and alcohol)

 **Prompt by:** Guest Reviewer, Kasumi: "Oops, we slept together and now we're too afraid of talking things out because I don't know if she/he really likes me or hormones." (I also took a "the Hangover" approach because it made me laugh, and I needed to end and start the new year with a laugh)

 **Summary:** Mistakes happen; maybe not all as big as sleeping with your best friend, but _hey_ , what is new years about if not starting from rock-bottom? One-shot.

 **XOX**

Alcohol was evil.

The opening line of every terrible error ever made, _ever._ Mix in a broken heart, sickness, beer goggles, the world spinning on an opposite axis, drinking more to feel better, washing it down with food and water, stumbling into broom closets, hanging with friends, royally screwing up somewhere along the way. Honestly, alcohol gave the proper, and most inviting mistake Ash Ketchum had ever made.

 _Sleeping with Misty Waterflower._

Why not just get it out there; he himself, staring down at the sleeping red-head couldn't believe it either. Couldn't beat around the bush, convince himself otherwise. _It already happened_.

Black hair a frayed mess on his head, clothes strewn about the god-knows what place hotel room he was in, and covers questionably wrapped around certain places that reminded him with friction how royally he screwed up. Actually, it could have been worse. He could have had a painful headache, stomach cramps, and a sore throat. Oh, wait. He had all of those things as well. Along with a nagging pain on his right calf, and a jabbing pain in his side—oh, wait, _no,_ that last one was actually she-who-will-not-be-named elbow pivoting into his rib cage.

Blissfully, she snored, and Ash tried to think of the best way to get out of this situation without disturbing her. No immediate escape route jumped out at him, but he hoped one would come soon.

Saucer wide, brown eyes, Ash tried to quietly clear his throat. Despite the dryness of his mouth and the spinning motion of the ground and ceiling, he was still fairly focused on _running away. First,_ he had to somehow untangle their limbs before any fleeing could be done.

One of her leg's wrapped around his, one arm propped over his chest with a thigh way too close to personal body parts she was not supposed to be anywhere near, and once more, the painful elbow jammed into his rib cage. Her face was right beside his, a constant reminder of his predicament because of the horrible morning breath she blew into his face.

Desperate, he tried to glance about, but his neck was stiff. He made a noise with his lips, hoping that _maybe_ in this mess he wouldn't have lost pikachu—but the mouse didn't pop to his rescue, and then Ash thanked god that pikachu didn't, and swore at himself for wanting the mouse to be here. _How in the world_ was Ash supposed to explain this to his best friend?

 _Yeah, don't mind me pikachu, I may or may not have slept with Misty—the problem is I can't really remember if I did or not because my head really hurts and everything is still kind of foggy, but could ya' lend a hand and bail me out?_

Yeah, that would get him thunder bolted into the next room for sure.

Instead, Ash tried to gently move Misty aside _without_ looking. Her skin was soft in the palm of his hand as he shifted her arm away from his chest with his one free arm. His left arm was currently pinned beneath her shoulder and had long gone numb. The tingly sensation was what probably woke him up in the first place.

Her hair was sprayed out above her face like a halo, and if he wasn't in such a panicked stupor; he might have paused to enjoy how pleasant and peaceful she looked. Her lips were gently pursed, swollen from things Ash did _not_ want to think about, and her cheeks a nice rosy color.

Her make-up was smeared slightly, but since she hardly wore any, it wasn't enough to make her look like a melted wax-monster.

Ash shifted, and she stirred which froze him.

 _Don't move, don't move._ He watched her face as she moved on her own, tearing away the jabbing elbow; Ash exhaled gratefully, but then winced all the same when that same arm twisted beneath his back, and tugged on him until her face was nestled against his chest. Strands of red hair tickled.

 _Shit. Shit._ _Don't panic. You've seen this maneuver before—on television lots of time—just...push here and-_

As he was trying to free himself from her grasp, her eyes snapped open like a viper's; green, blood-shot eyes staring up at Ash's brown eyes. He smiled awkwardly.

"...ah...Hi...Misty."

Misty wasn't as calm when she observed the situation. She sat up against the sheets—letting them fall to her waist without much thought, revealing far to much that had Ash covering his eyes, and then immediately realized the horror.

She let out a scream that brought tears to Ash's eyes. Rolling, he fell out of the bed and held his ears. The ringing went on forever, an endless echo while he whined. Too. Much. Pain.

When he finally got the strength to sit up and stare across the bed at her, Misty had dashed away from the bed, taking the sheets with her and was bouncing in her frantic nature.

"What the fuck happened last night?!"

Ash threw up his arms.

"Stop yelling!"

"I can't!" Misty screeched and Ash winced. He shushed her and then added in a hoarse, muted voice.

"I don't know! I can't remember. My head is killing me! Just stop screaming for two seconds!"

Misty clamped down on her teeth, and then settled in for a long hard look at the raven-haired trainer who looked three times worse for wear than she did. His eyes had bags under them and he yanked his bangs out of his eyes to get a better grasp on his headache.

"It's not that bad...just..."

Ash gazed at her who stared blatantly back at him with lost eyes. Despite their situation, with the glow of the window behind her, and the creaminess of her skin, she was glowing and scarily beautiful.

He opened his mouth to speak, and the words caught there. Having caught his stare, Misty cowered into her blanket-dress further and scampered.

"I need to shower." Misty urged, bursting away from the situation with lightning speed, leaving Ash staring at the wall behind her. "...For sixty years." She added quietly with a slam of the door, and a _click_ indicating it's lock.

Ash put his head down, listening to the water turn on and prayed for the world to stop spinning and his head to stop aching.

 _Great start to the New Year. Absolutely wonderful._

 **XOX**

Twenty-four hours earlier

"C'mon Ash, you can't mope around the hotel room all day—it's the eve of the new year. Biggest party night of the year and you're in the Indigo Plateau where there are a parties being hosted by thousands of beautiful women," Brock, one of Ash's oldest friend, gestured with his hands to indicate the worthiness of the moment, smiling happily and shrugging his shoulders.

"So c'mon, whose a better wing man than me?"  
Ash, sulking under his blankets, held a chocolate bar that Brock previously tried to bribe him with. Pikachu was seated at the end of the bed, sighing at his trainers behavior.

"I don't want to meet other women."

Brock groaned loudly, and threw down his arms, this time viciously tugging on Ash's blankets.

"Get out of bed you stubborn child!"

"I am not a child!" Ash shouted back, "I'm twenty-one and heart-broken, can't you just leave me alone!?"

"You're a drama queen!" Brock shouted back, successfully prying the blankets from the trainer, though Ash still curled into a ball and slammed his pillow over his head despite his retaliation.

"Okay, I'm gonna try to level with you again..." Brock inhaled. " _She dumped you!_ Move on! Do you really want to start your new year crying over a girl that went with you to Christmas dinner at your mom's house, and then ripped out your heart two days later?"

This time, Ash sat up with puffy eyes and pouting lips.

"That _was_ kinda mean..."

"Exactly—besides, you two only dated for a few months. You hardly knew each other."

Ash frowned. "We've been friends since we were kids."  
"For the last time, _Ash_. Spending thirty minutes with each other when you were _seven_ at a pokemon camp does not make you _friends_. You knew her for less than a year when you traveled with her and thought you could manage a relationship without talking for years! A relationship in which you only participated in part-time."

"Are you saying it's my fault I wasn't around?"  
"No, I'm saying that she expected too much and didn't really know you if she expected you to dedicate all of your time to her— _now_ , I'm going to ask you again. If you didn't pay attention to her when you were together, why do it now?"

Brock exhaled, crossing his arms with a shake of his head. Ash could tell that Brock thought his argument was flawless; but he was still unsure. Ash had never been broken up with, nor ever been told he favored his job over his relationship before. Not that it was a lie but... Serena was his friend and she wedged a dagger into his chest.

Frustrated, Brock let out another sigh.

"I swear you've spent more time with her now than you ever did when you two were dating."  
Ash scowled, this time rolling his eyes. "That's not true." dejectedly, he exhaled. "I just didn't appreciate her like I should have..." He trailed off and Brock threw up his arms once more.

"Don't repeat her! For the love of..."

"Chuu!" the mouse pounced, electricity sparking, frying Ash and Brock and leaving them a crumpled mess on the floor. The mouse pounced on Ash, and let lose a few choice phrases that had him nodding and then standing on the sidelines with Brock, and arms crossed.

"See, Piakchu agrees with me." Brock adjusted his clothes and smoothed out the static in his hair. "Now, can we please go invest all of this depressing sulking, to partying like normal twenty-somethings?"

Ash hummed for a few moments and then grabbed his cap and nodded motionlessly.

"Fine; but I'm not interesting in women."

Draping an arm around one of his best friends, Brock led him to the door, laughing.  
"The first step is admittance, buddy."

Ash brushed off Brock's friendly pat as they walked out of their shared hotel room, and into the fit of the New Year Celebration.

Every year, the Indigo League participated in several New Years parties that typically ran over into the last weekend of December, and into the first week of the January. They had festivals, battle tournaments, and of course; parties. Anyone who shared a seat on the league attended them; it was the perfect place for trainers of all ages to start off the new year. For the young-bracket they had games and festivities; for the teenage bracket they had safe carnival rides, fairs; advanced sections in league tournaments, and finally, for anyone over the age of twenty, and in most cases working for the league—they had parties and dancing and _alcohol_.

Nothing that Ash was interested in. He used to attend the festivities regularly when he was a teenager because of the amount of tournaments he could participate during the week, but since reaching the big two-zero, he neglected his duties as a Kanto native, and usually spent New Years with his mom. Unfortunately, the last year brought him into a line of success, operating as a pokemon specialist for the Indigo League, which gave him, and _plus one,_ a free ticket into all of the planned events.

Originally, he planned to bring Serena with him; his girlfriend of a few months, but after she heartlessly _dumped_ him a few days ago, he invited Brock in her place.

Sure, he could enter tournaments now, but given the bracket, people said it was 'unfair' to have a soon-to-be frontier brain, former champion of two other regions, and student in training to become a pokemon master in the battle line-up. Even if he used weaker pokemon, they informed him that he had too much battle experience, and it wasn't fair to the kids participating from over the world.

Yeah, well; when _he_ was a kid, no one bat an eye if a champion joined a tournament with a bunch of newbies; it taught them respect, valor. Commitment.

"Earth to Ash." Brock waved a hand in front of the occupied trainers face, and Ash snapped back into reality and observed his surroundings. Brock led him to the first festival of the night; food stands and street performers.

 _Wait,_ food stands?

"Oh, look, Brock—they have fried squid!" and in a split second, Ash was gone from vendor to vendor, leaving both Brock and Pikachu in the dust.

"Chu..."

"I swear, for as much as he eats, I don't know how he manages to stay his size."

But at least he wasn't sulking in his bed in the fetal position anymore. Maybe now they could actually enjoy the all-inclusive passes that Ash received from the Kanto League now.

 **XOX**

Every end of the year started like this for Misty, it was the last day to submit all of the paperwork that her sisters _promised_ that they actually did, but _never_ actually did, to the league.

Lucky for Misty, she smartened up over the years and only assigned Daisy, Lily, and Violet the least important tasks; like how much money they made on water ballets. Lucky for Misty, she kept that information at her desk just for this moment. With her time at the gym lessening, and opportunity to replace Lorelei as an Elite Four member rising, she had no room for screw ups.

Sipping a glass of wine she poured for herself, she sat back and smiled, clicking submit. Another New Year off to a great start.

"You work too hard!" Daisy shouted, disrupting her peace and running into her sisters hotel room.

"Excuse me?"

"It's New Years eve! Live a little!"

"Live a little?" Misty's eyes dodged to the window, where she saw a build up of frost; the festival of the Indigo League in the distance, and narrowed her eyes.

Like all Kanto Gym leaders, Misty was staying in a lavish hotel room paid for by the league in order to attend the annual league _kick off._ January first would introduce the changes, events, and celebrations in the new quarter, but also acknowledge powerful trainers and give out awards. Misty, as a future Elite Four member, was a recipient of one of those awards for her marvelous improvement and research regarding the growth of water pokemon.

Not only would she be announcing upcoming annuals, but she would receive one of the highest honors the Kanto Region could give to an aspiring Water Pokemon Master: the title of official water pokemon specialist. Years of hard work and schooling were about to pay off.

A red brow quirked.

"I'm not here for _fun_ , I'm here to receive an award and participate _lawfully_ in the announcements this year. I can't do that if I'm hung over."

"Oh, what good are all of these achievements if you have a stick stuffed up your butt? How are you _ever_ going to meet someone? Who are you going to kiss when the clock strikes midnight? These are the things I worry about for you, baby sister."

Over dramatic much? Misty rolled here eyes.

"My hand."

Shifting across the room, Misty waved her hand in Daisy's face while she grabbed a water bottle from her mini-refrigerator. The sun had long since died under the horizon, and the years-end league bash was about to start in the contest hall. Her gym leader friends, Erica and Sabrina were supposed to be going; but Misty never made any promises.

As if waiting for a proper reply, Misty finally leaned against her nightstand and raised her eyebrows.

"It's just a stupid, justified frat party that leads into midnight. Usually there's a fight, someone always gets sick, they light the candles on the stupid tree and people wear ridiculous dresses. If there was something like a round robin tournament instead of half-drunk match-ups I'd be more interested in going; however, I don't feel like being bullied into participating in some drunken brawl to see who looks the prettiest and who finds the quickest hook-ups."

Daisy's eyes narrowed at her sister; wondering how they could ever be from the same family.

"Do you know how to have fun?"  
"Yes. Nine to five Monday through Friday, and weekends only if I'm wearing protection." her voice reeked with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes and continued, " _Of course_ I know how to have fun, Daisy. I just don't feel like making an ass out of myself in front of all of my future colleagues. Lance, Bruno, Koga, Agatha, Wallace and _maybe_ Cynthia are all going to be there tonight. I don't want to be remembered as the red-haired-crazy-drunk outside of Marco's in Cerulean City, okay?"

"Oh, you're not that bad." Daisy waved off Misty's complaints, while the later deadpanned.

"Last year I pushed Casey into a frozen river and skated around without shoes on. The year before that, we were playing darts and I accidentally hit Rudy with one and we spent the New Year in the ER." Misty put her shoulders down, sounding totally rational. "This year, I just want a quiet, undisturbed start to the New Year."

"That's very mature." Daisy nodded, lips pursed as she kicked her legs over the armrest on the couch, showing off her sparkly silver shoes. "And dreadfully boring."

Misty shrugged.

"Where are Lily and Violet, anyways? Aren't _they_ usually your destruction buddies."

"Since I've been dating Tracey, they don't think _I'm_ as fun. You know, since I won't hit on other guys."  
Misty stifled her laughter. "I'm sure Tracey would be happy to hear that though."

"Shame he couldn't be here..." Daisy paused for an unreasonable amount of time, letting the long sigh float from her lips. "...He would go to the party with me."

At that, Misty's shoulders twitched. Daisy licked her lips and sat up.

"But no... without you, I'll have to go all alone, around people I don't know...you know, you're right. We should just stay in tonight." Daisy kicked off her shoes, stooped her head low and sighed miserably waiting patiently for what came next.

"...oh..." Misty started, uncomfortable in her own skin. " _Fine_ , but I'm not dressing up."

"But I already got you a dress." Daisy countered, her sadness seemingly vanished. Misty got played. Damn her soft heart.

" _Fine,_ but I'm not wearing heels _or_ putting my hair down."

"Deal. But you have to let me style the ponytail still." Daisy extended her hand in their arrangement, and Misty exhaled, then shook her life away.

 **XOX**

For a league party, there was a lot more gyrating on the dance-floor than Misty suspected there would be. The main party room had dimmed lights, and blasting array of colors that melded everyone together. Misty stood frozen at the dance floor entrance while Daisy was already washing down her first glass of champagne. There were no battles—in fact, people suggested leaving pokemon at home. No candles, or trees, or stuffy old people.."

"Wow, it's way cooler than last year." Daisy hummed, stepping around a crowd, Misty was practically attached to her sisters hip, mortified by the craziness around her.

Now, Misty was a wallflower by no means, but she was far from a party girl. She liked to go out with friends every so often; partake in social events—but raging madhouses of lights were not her idea of fun—even more so when she saw respectable friends taking shots off of other peoples belly buttons.

"Could you like, not cling onto me?"

"Sorry Daisy, I just don't want to get lost in here."

"Oh, c'mon baby sister. Like, live a little-" Daisy froze, seeing someone from the corner of her eye, then a loud high pitched scream erupted that nearly burst Misty's ear drum.

"Like oh my god! I haven't seen you girls in forever!" Daisy screamed and Misty held her ear and looked horrified up at them. They jumped up and down frantically screaming at the tops of their lungs incoherently—worst of all, no one else seemed to care.

"Like, oh my god," One of the girls with an accent just like Daisy's fake one started in, watching Misty. "Your kid sister like, hasn't grown up at all—I mean, look at your shoes."

Misty looked past the royal blue dress her sister bought for her, that was cut above her knees, and long in the back, to her red sneakers she insisted on wearing, and felt horribly embarrassed.

"We're just kidding lil' red!" one shoved her upper arm hard, and while grasping at Daisy. The high-spirited women drug her through the mess of mashing bodies, to the center bar where people were serving alcohol and dancing in cages.

"Like try some."

The loudest girl shoved an acidic smelling drink in her face, causing Misty's nose hairs to curl.. She coiled back. Misty didn't even know these people!

"No thanks." Misty offered back and the look-alike scoffed her answer off, and gave the drink to Daisy who swallowed it excitedly and then they bounced up and down again, much to her avid horror. It was like the college parties in movies—only, she wasn't in college, and this was supposed to be a league event. The frat party thing was supposed to be a jab, not a reality!

Daisy promised she wouldn't leave Misty's side, but when her eyes wandered to the excitement around her, Daisy was already bounding off.

"We're going to dance, wanna come with us?"  
"No thanks." Misty said again, robotic and terrified. Her nails were practically digging into the bar counter, Daisy shrugged and left her.

It didn't take long for her absence to be noticed by circling men, and one by one, the seats filled up around her; and Misty folded into herself, keeping her arms around her chest, and legs crossed over one another.

"Hey little miss, you drinking tonight?"

"No." Misty urged, she couldn't even make eye contact.

This was so far out of her element, she wasn't even on the periodic table anymore. She was in the middle of space, floating in an unknown destination with no chance of returning home. Daisy was lost in the mashing of bodies and she could either hunt her sister down, be picked off piece by piece by imposing eyes, or make a run for it.

The only slight coward that she was, she went for the latter, and made a dash from the bar stool she was seated on; only, without the tug of a stronger, more dominant woman guiding her through the mess of people, her efforts were toasted, and she was thrashed through the regurgitation of bodies and nightmare fuel until her back was up against the wall, and a strand of hair fell into her face.

Awestruck—she looked for any familiar face in the wave of moving limbs. The pounding music was getting to her head, vibrating through her body and heart and she used the adrenaline created by it to pounce. She needed to find a safe space— _any_ safe space.

 **XOX**

Ash wasn't fazed by the loud music, the terrible dancing, or the strobe lights. In fact, he found it average for the level of mayhem usually going on in his own mind. He and Brock managed the crowd well enough, shifting and busting a move when they had to, and making their way to the middle of the dance floor with questionable moves. Given their attractiveness, most people didn't mind their gawky movements, and found their awkwardness endearing.

A few girls circled Ash, but he laughed off their advances and stayed close to Brock, who was in heaven as they found the center bar.

"What can I get you?"

"Water." Ash answered automatically, and Brock stuck up his nose at the menu. "I want..." he paused. "I want... you know—hmm... I'll have a martini."

"And one martini." The bartender gave Brock a look, shaking his head as he slid Ash's drink to him.

"This is pretty fun, Brock! I'm glad you dragged me out of my bed for this."

"That wasn't sarcasm, was it?"

"No! It's been great! I ate so much food, and pikachu really enjoyed the rides."

"Shame he couldn't come with us."

"That's okay, he loves staying at the league provided daycare." Ash shuddered, sipping his water. "Usually he tries to make his personal army though, so I should probably pick him up before morning."

"Personal army?"

"Pikachu gets a little crazy with power." replied Ash, nonchalant while Brock's martini was placed in front of him. He twisted the olive, and then slurped it back, and sipped the deliciousness.

"Well, pikachu amassing his personal army or not, we need to find some ladies."

"Nah." Ash hummed, bobbing his head to the beat.

"We have to kiss _someone_ at midnight, and while I'm sure girls would _line up_ to kiss you, I need a wing man."

Ash's shoulders slumped. "But...Brock..."

"Oh shut up, Serena did not ruin all girls for you; now let's go!"

 **XOX**

Brock wasn't wrong; Ash had a main protagonist, dark-haired, dark-eyed heroic aura, while also nursing a heartache—so women _did_ swarm him when they moved into the lounge to sit around fancy tables and talk more privately.

That included people like Erica, scary Sabrina that still gave him the creeps; Koga's daughter, who he could never remember the name of; and a bunch of girls with pretty faces, nice dresses and grabby hands.

Brock owed him for this!

Ash swore if he had one more girl try to feel him up, he was going to have a melt down—only...

O _ne, two, three_ bodies sat down. Two at his sides on the armrest of the chair, and a woman with long blonde hair on the corner of the coffee table that was in front of him.

" _Ash Ketchum_ , my goodness! I never thought I'd see you at a party this size!"

Ash's brows raised, taking a few moments to recollect who this woman was. He looked to his right, then his left, and knew right away. He laughed nervously.

"Hey Daisy—I'm just here with Brock, he's.." Ash trailed off, looking over his shoulder as Brock's over-the-top display of affection scared away another potential date and scrunched his face. "He's...doing something."

"And you're sitting here, all tough and brooding," Daisy winked as Lily continued, patting his black hair.

"We saw you earlier! You sure have... _some dance moves._ "

Ash pursed his lips. "I know I don't dance well-" Defensive, he added. "What do you guys want, anyways?"

He almost inquired as to where Misty was, but knew this kind of scene wasn't her bag. She was probably at the gym with her water pokemon.

Containing a depressed sigh, Ash wished that _he_ was at the gym with her water pokemon right about now. At least she wouldn't drag him out of his comfort zone, into a swarm of people. She would let him sit on her couch with a blanket and hot cocoa, watching those sad chick flicks he only watched when he was with her—mostly because he couldn't justify watching them alone. He _did_ have an image to uphold.

"We just wanted to say hi, you seemed so lonely sitting over here by yourself." Daisy insisted, looking over her shoulder at Brock's next sad attempt. "Shouldn't you help him more?"

"Nah, he does this every year."

"Harass people?"

"...It's not harassment. He just says too many nice things all the time."

"Nice things?" Violet's ears perked up and she slid off the side of Ash's chair. Lily was after her in a heart beat.

"You have had way too much to drink if you think that's a good idea." Lily barked, grabbing Violet before she could approach Brock. Both Daisy and Ash laughed, though the later immediately sighed.

Daisy pat him on the leg and smiled widely at him.

"Well, it was good to see you squirt!" She stood up, excusing herself and smoothing out her dress before pausing. "Oh, but if you _do_ see Misty, would you let her know I'm sorry for abandoning her. By the time I got back to the bar she already ran for it—let her know I'm sorry and that Lily and Violet are here if she wants to go back to the hotel?"

Ash blinked what felt like a hundred times, if Daisy hadn't walked after her sisters in such a hurry, he might have questioned how they ever managed to convince Misty to come _here_ of all places. Suddenly, he was looking around the lounge for familiar red hair. Misty was a _much_ better wing-woman than Ash was, and then at least if she was here, they could make fun of Brock together, and the three amigos would be together for new years! That would be much better than some strange lady!

Ash stood up, walking around the lounge until he found the balcony, and of course, his eyes had to betray him.

In the people below, he saw blonde hair, pink dress alongside blue hair; red eyes, and long brown hair, green dress. He nearly threw up the water he drank earlier.

So she came anyways—one would think _she_ would go back to Kalos after the embarrassment she caused him! Sticking around for _his_ home-region's new years party was evil; how was he supposed to operate with her around? Ash looked down, sullen and depressed, and in sudden need to spiral out of here. She looked so happy, drinking and dancing with her friends; he probably looked like that, too. Only, it hurt him much more than it did her to see her that way.

No regrets.

She didn't care after all. She was the one who pinned over him for twelve years, and then broke _his_ heart.

Ash kicked away from the balcony, rushing back into the lounge. He felt sick, and the rosy, smoky air was suddenly very suffocating as he fled the scene, leaving Brock without back-up in case of emergency. Hopefully, the pokemon doctor would understand, given Ash's current predicament.

Every hallway seemed to lead back to the dance floor, every door took him back into the lounge, and he felt like a rat caught in a cage—it was only when his wandering took him into direct confrontation with his ex-girlfriend, that he finally broke into a full panic.

"Ash—oh—wow, I didn't think you'd be here."

Then there was anger, and a lot of it, but he couldn't express himself, so he turned and walked away as quickly as his feet would carry him. Why wouldn't _he_ be here? He worked for the league, it was technically his job to be here! She was the one that was supposed to go!

Just when he thought he was finally over this horrible downhill spiral of emotional agony—his hand brushed against the cold of a doorknob, and he threw it open after briefly reading "janitor" and tucked himself inside discreetly, away from the booming music, and smoke dispensers. He let his forehead slam against the closed door, and finally exhaled so loudly, the other body in the room piped in her two cents.

"What are you in here for?"  
Ash recognized the voice immediately, turning to face green-eyes in the darkness. When he pulled the light switch, nothing happened. Once again, the voice answered.

"Yeah, that doesn't work... You're not a creep or anything, are you?" She asked immediately, and Ash scoffed.

"What? No way." He answered, trying to find a seat opposite of the voice; he found what he thought may have been a turned over bucket, and parked himself there.

"Don't think this is weird, but I'm going out on a limb." Ash cleared his throat, trying to adjust to the darkness. "Misty?"  
"What's it to ya'?" She smacked her lips, listening to him shift around.

"It's me—Ash. Don't _you_ recognize my voice?"

"Oh, hey." She sounded surprised, and a little embarrassed. "I didn't expect _you_ to be hiding in a broom closet is all."

"Me? Forget about that, why are you even here?"

"Daisy tricked me."

"Ah—that makes sense." Nervous to avoid why he was sitting in here of all places, he immediately added. "She told me to apologize for her if I saw you—must have jinxed me then, because I was already looking for you—and ah—here you are. Hiding right under our noses, in the one place no one would ever look for you; except for me, I knew you'd be here."

He could practically hear the eye roll in her next comment.

"So... you _knew_ I would be in a janitors closet?"

"Yep"

"Oh you are so full of shit." She countered and Ash deflated, his confidence shattered. "You couldn't find a red wall in a room with four of them, let alone me in a broom closet. Why are you really ducking the party? You live for these kinds of events."

Ash muttered his reply, sitting back and crossing his arms over his button tee-shirt and vest.

"Sorry, what was that?" Misty asked, blinking at him. Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see that she was seated on some boxes of paper-towel, and was leaned forward eagerly to listen to him.

"I _said_." he cleared his throat. "Serena is here."  
Misty shrugged. "Why are you avoiding her? Aren't you two dating?"

Ash got really, really quiet. So quickly that Misty knew immediately what had happened, and that quick retort and silver tongue vanished in an instant; it was a switch only Misty could manage.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. When did it happen?" Suddenly, she was reaching forward, her hand pat his knee—and he realized just how small the closet really was. Her voice was soft though, and a bit soothing.

"A few days ago... Right after Christmas."

"...That's harsh."

Glumly, Ash sighed reveling in the warmth brought by her hand. "Yeah, Brock said the same thing."  
"Brock's here too?"

"Yeah, trying to find that New Years kiss."

" _Oh_ , I hate that tradition." Misty scowled, Ash nodded his agreement. Misty returned to the issue at hand.

"She didn't fly home after...?"

"I figured she would, but I guess not. She ruined Christmas, she must be determined to ruin New Years, too."

"That's pretty harsh." Misty replied, then shifted a little. "Did you at least talk to her?"  
"No, I saw her, ran away, bumped into her anyways and ran away again."  
" _Harsh._ " As if she couldn't say that enough! Yes, it was terrible. Ash brushed her hand off of his knee and rubbed his gelled hair.  
"You're telling me..." Ash grumbled, shifting forward to lean on his arms. For once, he didn't feel like complaining about his falling out, and wiggled his eyebrows at Misty.

"Why are _you_ in here?"

"I _loathe_ huge parties like this. I thought it was supposed to be like some kind of ball, or sophisticated event, since it's being put on by the league, you know? So I thought to myself, it shouldn't be too bad. A few people get drunk, dance dirty, make a fool of themselves-Then I get here, and it's all booming music and flailing bodies and _I'm_ the odd one out."

"The flailing bodies is the best part." he mocked her, and Misty rolled her eyes again, this time, he caught the shine in her green eyes.

"So, I bailed...I just... couldn't find the exit and I felt stupid wandering around back and forth so I ducked in here for a little while."

Ash pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. "How long ago was _a little while_."

"Give or take three or four hours."

At that, Ash laughed without restraint, but Misty remained silent as a mouse.

"That's awful." Ash chuckled, wiping at his eyes.

Misty smirked in the darkness: "Well, now I have company, so my plan worked!"

"You should be having fun out there."

"Yeah, well, so should you—but we're not."

A moment of sad silence passed, holding onto their thoughts, biting their tongues. What a way to ring in the new year—they couldn't even see the fireworks from here. Ash wracked his brain for something else to say, but he had nothing; no good words of advice, no confident phrase. So he gnawed his nail, and waited quietly until the wrestling of boxes drew his attention back to her.

"Come sit over here, it was funny that you were sitting on a wet paint bucket at first, but now I just feel bad for you."

"What!? Oh shit, Mist! These are the only good pants that I brought with me!" he whined, while she howled in laughter.

Patting his bottom on his way to sit beside her, she wiped at her eyes and snorted.

"I was just kidding—it was just water.. I think."

" _Thanks_." Ash scowled.

"You were the one that didn't notice." She laughed harder. "I sat on it for two seconds and realized it was damp."

"Maybe my ass isn't as sensitive as yours!"

"Pfft, it's way more sensitive! You're hiding in a broom closet from a _girl_."

Ash gasped, that wasn't what the meant! He raised a finger to her; ready to retaliate when the janitor's door opened once more, breathing light into their little cave. It hurt their eyes, but when they adjusted to the light, they felt their stomachs turn.

Two bodies, mangled together slammed into the shelves, and took their words away. Instead, Ash and Misty both disappeared into the hallway before the door shut, and listened for a few minutes before feeling dirty, and backing away.

"I don't even think they saw us."

Ash nodded, wincing at the door; then finally _saw_ his long-time friend. He hadn't seen her in practically a year, her hair was much longer now, but still tied into a pony tail. She wore cascade earrings, and what little make-up she had was light and accented her green eyes, rather than muting them. Her dress was a well fitted, halter-top, royal or navy blue, _it was some kind of blue_ , dress that cut before her knees, and had what Ash would have described as a transparent tail around the back. It fit her well, showing off more of her feminine charm, but also her broad shoulders and muscular build—signed off with something only Misty would wear to a party: red sneakers.

"Nice shoes." he said instead of replying to the strange assortment of events that pushed them back into the light. Misty spun at him, catching his eyes and sly grin and stuck out her tongue.

"Shut up Mr. 007." She playfully pushed his shoulder. "Black vest and white button up, black slacks and shoes to match? Something tells me you borrowed a few things from Brock."

Indicated accurate by the way she pulled on his shirt, and the shoulders were too wide for his smaller frame. Brock was built like a stone wall, whereas Ash had more of a lean build. He flinched out of her touch.

"Daisy only partially dressed you, huh? Otherwise you might have showed up in shorts."

" _Please_ ," Misty smacked her lips, then lifted her dress to show off her black, tight shorts. Ash's face flushed red, having expected something different that made his stomach flip.

She winked: "Don't underestimate me."

He whooped, doubling over while holding his stomach and shaking his head.

"Oh... I'm so glad you're here." Ash sighed in relief as she stood next to him, watching the party with her hand securely on the middle of his back.

"I'll go if you go."

Ash hesitated a minute, then smiled. "Well... we still have to find Brock—I hope he hasn't gotten himself thrown out yet."

"Then it's a date." She pushed him forward, still too nervous to lead the way. "After you."

 **XOX**

When Ash was around, he somehow always managed to bring out the wilder side of Misty. She instantly grew more comfortable in her surroundings; whether it was because of security, or having a more reliable friend than her sisters; she would never know.

Ash was comfortable wherever he went; big party or private affairs—he typically stole the show, and his friends were okay with that, especially when Ash's athletic timing gave Brock props with the ladies that was instantly thwarted off by Misty's warnings. For a little while, as the clock ticked past eleven, they were friends having a good time, swinging into the dance floor; leaving the dance floor because Misty would nearly always get assaulted, finding the fun part of the lounge—with pool tables and darts; to sitting at the bar and watching Brock fall on his face flirting with women.

"...maybe if you'd start by ordering them a drink you weirdo." Misty criticized his attempts as he leaned against the bar and held his head

"But, what kind of woman doesn't like flowers?" Brock whined and Misty gave him a look while adjusting his tie.

"I don't even know why you're trying so hard, it's almost midnight, just sit back and enjoy it with us." Ash suggested, gesturing with his arms, but Brock exhaled.

"But that isn't tradition! I have to have someone to kiss by midnight."

"I'll do it if you pay me." Violet winked, coming around the bar, and standing over Misty's shoulder. The redhead blew a strand of hair out of her face.

"Violet, no."

"Awh, why not? He's cute."

"He's also my friend."

"Oh, we _know_ Ash is off limits—but why not the other ones? Daisy is dating Tracey." She threw out there, and Ash sat up.

"Why am I off limits?" he asked, but the question was thrown away when Lily and Daisy both bounced over to their little sister. Daisy hugged Ash affectionately, and then arm-punched Brock.

"Your friends!" Daisy sang. "You found them, like, I'm so happy for you."

"Yep." Misty raised her eyebrows, looking between her sisters. "How much have you drank?"  
"Not enough—have you had any?"

"No a sip."

"Really? Misty... It's new years." Lily suggested, and Misty shrugged.

"I'm not going to cave to peer pressure. The idea of throwing up and hang overs doesn't appeal to me like some."

"When did you stop having fun?" Brock asked, already eight drinks in; slightly buzzed. Misty crossed her arms.

"I'm having lots of fun." Misty offered, and Ash, still curious why he was off limits stared between all of them.

"But you'd have more fun if you _drank_." Daisy said, shoving her own blend of fruit and tequila in Misty's face, and she turned her nose up at it.

Ash, who had been dodging Serena all night, watching his feet to make sure he didn't step on anyone's toes, and minding his manners finally cocked his jaw to the side and waved over the bartender who smiled at Ash; everyone else watched in awe.

"Six shots of tequila, please."

"So the future champion finally breaks out the money—I dig. This one's on the house." the bartender nodded proudly, then pulled out six shot glasses, and expertly poured the drinks without missing a beat. Ash took one, Brock took the second, and then Misty's sisters took the remaining, with Ash offering her the final one.

She looked offended, a little alarmed, like all the controlling bombs went off in her head at once. "No."

"C'mon, Mist. If you get drunk now, you'll probably be violently ill by midnight, and then it's only up from there."

"Have you ever drank before?" She asked seriously, and Ash held his glass to his lips.

"First time for everything!" and he threw it back simultaneously with Brock, Lily, Daisy and Violet, and Misty watched in awe.

He slammed the glass back down on the counter and exhaled, shaking his head. "That is terrible." he coughed, but Brock pat him on the shoulder and ordered another round.

"It gets better the longer you drink."

Panicked, Misty held onto her drink, and looked around her again. Then, she focused on Ash, who said.

"Don't worry so much. It's okay to lose control sometimes. Besides, you're with friends."

Misty blinked, blissfully listening to white noise and then swallowed the drink and made a face as she flipped the glass over, and handed it back to the bartender, shaking her head.

Daisy, Lily, and Violet all cheered. "And the mighty have fallen."

Misty cleared her throat. "Shut up, you know I can out drink you." Misty turned to face the bartender, warding off the tequila and moving straight into ordering high balls and kamikazes.

"If we're drinking, we're doing this _right_."

"Oh, I love it when you finally unwind!" Daisy praised, pumping her fist in the air, and clinking all of their glasses together when Ash realized he might have bitten off more than he could chew. Misty tilted her head at him expectantly, and then it was bottoms up.

Unfortunately for both of them—the rest of the night was such a blur... they would have never imagined ending up where they did.

 **XOX**

When Misty was finally out of the shower, she couldn't look at Ash. That was fine, because he couldn't look at his own reflection, or the ceiling, or, well, light. His face was buried in the pillows.

His head hurt so much.

Misty found the mini-refrigerator without effort, and threw a water bottle at him that woke him from his stupor.

"You need to drink more water. That's how you curb the hang over." She was racing around the room, staring at the clock. "Shit. Shit, shit." She whined, she had her first announcement in under an hour, and her head was still spinning. This is _exactly_ what she didn't want to happen!

He sat up, holding his head. He managed to find his pants, that cleverly had a giant tear in the side of them, and watch her. Everything felt so wrong, he felt miserable.

"We're lucky we ended up in my room." Misty grumbled, rubbing her forehead, trying to recall how they ended up here. She had hangovers before, but none as blind and memory robbing as this. Ash never had a hang over, and his head hurt so much; he was perfectly fine with their predicament, whatever it was he was panicked over before was nothing he couldn't sleep on.

"Your room? This is your hotel room?"

"Yeah, my room." She shot back, no patience for his rhetoric. "Put your shirt on, I need to think."

"You can't think with my shirt off?" He grunted painfully, catching the shirt mid-flight. Misty paced again, her movements made his stomach churn. Somehow, he had a feeling, based on how dry and raw his throat felt, he had done his share of throwing up.

"I can't believe this happened. This is why I don't drink! We were having a normal party before the drinking and then this! God, I can't even remember what we did last night—or when we—or...or..."

Ash grabbed her wrist. She _had_ to stop moving before he blew chunks.

"Yeah, I know, but could you sit still? You're making me dizzy." When his hand touched hers, lightning filtered through his veins and he remembered not-to-be-remembered sounds of ecstasy and his eyes boggled out of his head, staring up at her in complete panic. The pain temporarily subsided, and he frantically attempted to stand, throwing his shirt on as quickly as possible—inside out, and buttoned wrong.

"You're right, we really screwed up."

Misty, with wide eyes that seemed to linger just a bit below his waist, Ash fled.

" _I_ need to shower!"  
When the door slammed and he was gone, she couldn't breath. Her lungs physically hurt, and no oxygen could work its way through her airways. Ash had bits and pieces, but as her hangover was more flavorful in experience, she recalled far more of _last night_ than he did and she stared wide-eyed at the floor, clutching the dresser behind her. She closed her eyes, it was wrong, but the sensation of his fingers running down...

Damn... damn, damn, damn, and _no_. Misty threw herself forward and started to strip the bed until her arms were tired and the thoughts burned out of her mind. She then raced for the balcony door, and yanked it open in a whip of violently cold, fresh air.

Then a subtle knocking that she couldn't determine was a faint rocking from her memory, or her own door. When she turned to look, she saw that it was her door. Misty searched the room quickly for any damning evidence that may have been left behind by their actions, threw the sheets in a knot by the pillows, then tossed the comforter over the top before marching to the door.

 _There was no one in the shower, she left it running. She was about to have a bath._ Shit, her hair was wet. _She was one of those weird people that had to shower first, and then bath for relaxation_. Misty's nose curled as she peeped through the spy hole into the hallway, and saw someone she barely recognized. She unlocked the door, and pulled it open only a fraction of the way.

"Hey-" the blonde, blue-eyed beauty smiled. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

Misty's eyes shifted around, "I'm sorry, who...?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Serena, it's nice to meet you." She extended her hand to Misty, and Misty's eyes went wide and her poker face went into the garbage. Grateful for the door, Misty forced a smile.

"Can I help you?"

"Again, I hope I'm not bothering you. I asked the hotel manager which room you were staying in... I just—well."

This was Misty's personal hell. She was stuck in one of those horrible chick flicks—not the ones that had heart and a story, but one of the dreadful ones that her _sisters_ enjoyed. Pack full of raunchy sex and bad filler.

"I saw you and Ash hanging out last night and... well, I wanted to tell him that I was sorry last night, but I got the feeling he was avoiding me." She shrugged innocently, and offered a very sweet smile. "I was sort of hoping you knew where he was?"

Misty felt a shiver run down her spine. Honestly would have her burned at the stake, lying would have many consequences. Misty frowned, and shook her head, regardless.

"Uhh.. no, we broke off around midnight..."

"Really?" Serena blinked. "I saw you guys around four at the carnival. Ash was trying to fish for a prize... you guys saw me, he threw a giant magikarp at me...and you guys ran away."

Misty tried to imagine that, she really _really_ did, but the more she tried, the more ridiculous it sounded.

"I uh.. I don't remember that."

"Really?"

"Nope. Are you sure it was us?"

"I'm pretty sure... so you don't know where he went after that, huh?"  
"Nope. Maybe try Brock?"

Hope returned to her eyes. "Brock! That's a great idea, thank you!"

"No problem, you...uh, go get 'em." Misty pumped her arm in Serena's direction, and when she was sure that Serena was disappeared into the hallway, she slammed the door, locked everything including the bolt, and then flew into the bathroom.

Without breathing, or pausing, she screamed: "SerenawasjusthereandshewasaskingwhereyouwereandItoldhertoaskBrockandIcan'trememberifheknowsanythingorhowwegotherebutapparentlywewereatthecarnivalatfourand... Oh my god you're not wearing pants."  
"I just got out of the shower!" He retaliated, holding a towel over his private parts the instant she burst in. "Breath when you talk!" he shouted when she shut the door between them.

"Serena was just here!" Misty shouted, clearly and this time Ash opened the door to peek at her.

"She was?"

"Yes!" Misty added, grasping the sides of the door.

"What did you say..?" he asked weakly, and Misty threw up her arms.

"I lied, of course! She was talking about how she wanted to apologize and was looking for you and so I lied and said I didn't know and that she should ask Brock."

"Great, that's great—so! We just have to call Brock and.." he looked down at himself, then back at her.

"I might have some sweats that will fit you." Misty turned away quickly, and dug through her bag. She was wearing jeans and a long sleeved tee-shirt; her hair was still wet and over her shoulders, but she still managed to look so dainty and pretty. Ash tried to pry his mind from that thought, and focus on the positive.

Serena probably stayed in town because she wanted to make-up with him! He cheered for himself, and then when Misty handed him a pair of her old sweat pants and a baggy tee-shirt, he tugged them on. The sweats were a little short on him, and the baggy shirt was tight against his toned features, but it left nothing to the imagination—which was bad because when he returned from the shower Misty pointed at him simultaneously as he pointed at her.

"Your neck." they said in unison, and Misty grasped hers and turned around to look in the mirror. Ash looked into the slightly fogged mirror of the bathroom and placed his hand over the bruises. They were all over his chest, too.

"I can't go out like this. I'm announcing the first quarter. I'm going to be on national TV with hickies all over my neck." She threw a coffee cup with one hand out of frustration and then turned at him.

"We need to fix this." She warned him dangerously, and Ash put up his hands.

"We will—we just...first we need pain killers, second we need better clothes. There's a shop just around the corner, right?"

Misty narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"How did you know that?"

"I dunno, spots in my memory?"  
"How are we going to get from here to there?"

Ash looked over her shoulder, and grabbed the bath robe hanging in her closet, and threw it over his shoulders.

Misty shook her head.

"You wait here, I'll be right back." Misty said, turning to grab her jacket and scarf, which made much more sense, and then pat Ash on the shoulder. He moved aside and she looked for her wallet—which she couldn't find. Noticing the dilemma, Ash tried to help. Laying down offered the temptation to never get up again, when he checked under the bed, he found a multitude of things: her bra, her purse, which he held up for her to grab, and listened to her mutter a quick 'thank you' and disappear into the hallway—and while he was down there, he grabbed a piece of paper that he instantly put back on the ground, sat back up and stared wide-eyed into nothing.

What the _fuck_ was drinking, and since when did it have such major consequences?

 **XOX**

Misty raced from her room, looking through her purse. A phone that wasn't hers was stationed there, tickets to some chapel, and raffle tickets for the carnival there. The were time-stamped just after three, and according to Serena, they stayed there until four. It was a quarter to ten now, which meant they were missing the time between eleven and three, and four until nine. Nine hours, poof. Gone.

At least some of those were spent playing the twosome wrestle, and another getting so wasted they were both struggling with damning migraines and memory loss. Misty's stomach was tied into so many knots, she wished she could have stayed in bed for another couple of hours, but since that bed was also occupied by Ash, she would weather the sickness and headache. Thankfully, her feet refused to betray her unlike her heart.

It wouldn't stop beating or recalling or sending strange vibrations down her body. Stupid emotions. Stupid New years.

"Mis-MIsty!" Misty recognized Daisy's voice instantly, and she bounced from one corner of the building to her, where she was trying to leave incognito.

"I thought you'd be up already. I knocked at your door earlier, but no one answered. Are you ready for you speech? You drank _way_ more than I thought you would last night." concern. _Daisy_ was actually concerned; though this was _mostly_ her fault!

Misty turned to Daisy with a sharp eye.

"Next time I say no, I mean it." and she whipped back around, and left, leaving Daisy confused and scratching her head.

Ash's memory didn't fail him, there was a clothing shop around the corner—the only problem was that it wasn't open. She put her head against the windowed door, and then kicked at the door before going around the side to look if there were any other shops available that would sell men's clothing. Misty walked back and forth—then stopped at a billboard sign; and her face went snow white.

In large, red writing; spray paint not required was the phrase: " _A LOVES M._ " surrounded by a huge heart—and one lonely guy up there, trying to scrub it off of the face of the most recent league champion of the region.

Misty stopped to look around, lucky for her, no one recognized her face, but she looked down at her hands, then looked back up at the sign, and then retreated. Now her heart definitely betrayed her. This was more than just a drunken mistake. This was a nightmare born of flares and dramatics—how could Ash do this?!

Defeated, she raced back into the hotel room, to find Ash had already dressed back into his normal clothes, but rolled his pants up; where that painful culprit of the tear was a big, ugly cut, slightly stitched by novice hands. His hands were on his hips, and he was as mortified as she was when they made eye contact.

"We need to talk." They both said, but it was Ash who held up his hands first, which were slightly stained red. Misty's heart swooned, but her stomach was sick.

"I found something questionable earlier when I was looking for your purse and..." While he was talking, Misty approached the curtains to the balcony over looking the city, and ripped them open while he was mid-sentence to see the billboard that stopped her in her tracks.

"...oh dear Arceus." Ash muttered, staring at it wide eyed. Misty looked back at him with the same expression, and they met mid-way until Ash backed up, snatched the paper he tried to forget about, and held it out for Misty who looked at it, and threw it down with a quivering lip.

Fitfully, they both shouted:

"How drunk did we get last night?!"

 **XOX**

They were sitting at the cafe, having shared a bottle of ibuprofen, and waiting for death. Misty still had a speech at eleven, Ash still had to attend the award ceremony, but he probably wasn't going to. They were both ruined.

Quietly they sat there, sipping the darkest coffee imaginable, even Ash, who usually preferred sweets sipped in hopes that it would curb the headache. Neither of them ate, their stomachs couldn't be trusted, and Misty was already on the border of throwing up from an anxiety attack.

"We need a plan."

"Right." Misty swallowed her coffee and cracked her neck. "We run away and disappear for a few years."

Ash snickered, but put his head down. He couldn't disagree.

"Well, at least _we_ didn't get married." Ash chuckled, trying to make the best out of the situation. "That could have been pretty bad."

"Worse than signing a legal document as a witness to Violet and Brock's wedding?"

Ash put his head back down. "At least we have all of our limbs attached."

"Grateful for the small things." Misty muttered, holding the coffee beneath her nose to take the entire scent it. Usually, it calmed her nerves, made her relax...right now, it made her sick to her stomach, she slammed her drink down.

"You need to talk to Serena."

"I do, and you know... it's not like it was that big of a deal, last night. I mean, neither of us remember it, so that means...maybe it didn't happen?"

Misty gave him a look that refuted his nonsense. She licked her lips and raised her eyebrows, and quietly exhaled.

"It doesn't work like that, but whether or not we had sex shouldn't deter us from our duties. We were both really _really_ drunk and clearly beyond rational thought; so I don't think it would be bad to put it behind us, and pretend like it never happened."

Ash snapped up, and clapped his hands together. "Yes! That one. Let's do that."

"Great, then it never happened."

"Never happened."

But when he looked at her, it was like looking at a completely different woman. _Woman_ he wondered when Misty became that in his eyes. A bit ashamed, he looked away from her, and let the silence eat at him until she excused herself for her speech.

Ash looked at the clock; and realized it was about time to get Pikachu from daycare. The mouse was going to be furious with him for leaving him over night; especially since Ash didn't have a valid reason because he _was never_ going to tell another living soul about what happened.

Oh well—it was all uphill from here, right?

 **XOX**

Pikachu wasn't happy, and he made sure to let Ash know when he went to pick him up that morning. The entire walk back to their hotel room, Pikachu swore at him about the infant pokemon, and the complete _animals_ that ran the place. He complained about the sleeping arrangements, and all Ash could do was apologize.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I just... fell asleep. I drank too much." He added as an after thought while Pikachu sniffed the air and narrowed his beady eyes at Ash as they entered the hotel.

"Pikachu-pi, pikapi?" He questioned, and Ash cleared his throat.

"What? Well, yea, of _course_ you can smell her on me, we hung out until super late last night." Ash winced at his own lie. Pikachu wasn't going to believe him. In fact, he believed him so little, he tugged on the small part of Ash's hair that covered his neck and smacked him for lying.

Indiscreetly pointing out the marks, Ash covered them with his hands, and shushed the pokemon.

"Not so loud!"

The mouse deviously grinned with suggestive, bouncing eyebrows. "Pikachu-piiiii?"

"No, it's not like that! It was a mistake. To top off the rest of the things that went wrong last night! Now, we have to go find Brock—he screwed up more than I did."

"Chu?" the mouse asked, uncertain it was possible for such a thing to happen.

"You just wait, buddy... you just wait."

But neither of them wished that they had.

"Brock! That's Misty's sister!" Ash screamed into the darkness of their shared room, turning the lights on. Brock and Violet were snuggled into bed, probably doing questionable things before Ash burst in.

Violet pouted at Ash, covered to the neck with blankets.

"So? She gets me." Brock countered, love drunk.

"And he's a great cook." Violet winked at Ash who stepped back

"You two _do_ remember that you got married right?"

"Well, yeah. You and Misty were the ones who wouldn't put the bottle down. We were totally prepared for our decision."

"...kay." Ash stared at them, "I'm... I'm just gonna grab my bag and go..."

"Hey, man, it's all good." Brock nodded to Ash and the raven-haired trainer collected his stuff, and then backed out of the room, and shut it quietly.

"...Chu, pika chu pika."

Ash looked questionably at Pikachu who sat on his shoulder looking at the closed door.

"Really? That long? I give them a week."

"Pikapi pi." The mouse agreed and they walked out feeling like stumps on a log. Needless to say, Serena probably didn't get a hold of Brock yet.

 **XOX**

The good 'ol pokemon center. It always knew the many ways to cheer Ash up. From the way each room was exactly the same, to the poor shower quality, the squeaky mattresses, the chairs and tables that were extremely uncomfortable, and the old dinosaur televisions. It reminded him of his childhood; of simple times.

Well, at least he hadn't whined over Serena at all today, especially if she was trying to find him.

Which, reminded him... he dug through his trousers from the day prior for his cellphone, which was lost on him—and instead, found a box.

More exactly, a ring box. _An empty ring box_. For a second he shuddered, felt a pang through his heart, and inhaled sharp.

"Must be Brock's—Has to be Brock's." Ash urged, setting it aside. His phone was no where to be found; but that was okay. He had Serena's phone number memorized; surprisingly, when he sat down to call her, his fingers wouldn't dial the number. He held the phone up to his face, staring down at the eleven o'clock time while pikachu watched his trainer quietly, and then placed the phone back on the receiver and grabbed the remote.

He flipped the channel to the Kanto Battle Network and staring back at him was the endearing, feisty red-head, wearing a scarf and jacket because of the weather—and for reasons other than that. He hair whipped in the wind as she delivered the annual announcements for the beginning of the quarter, unlike her greatest fears, she didn't stutter or make a fool of herself; regardless of the hangover, she was as professional as ever. When the Champion, Lance stepped forward he kissed Misty on both cheeks, who scrunched her nose at him, and he gave her a short applause for her eloquence.

"It's a tough time, _new years_. Every year we make new resolutions, plans to start over, to change things we didn't like last year. But we must also remember those who have worked exceptionally hard over the last year. Here are the recipients of awards after their dedication last year."

At that moment, whoever the camera guy was zoomed in on Misty's face, and Ash coiled the remote into his hand and held it close to him, staring doe-eyed at her image as Lance read off the title that Ash, himself, earned only a few years prior.

"Our newest Water Pokemon Specialist and Elite Four member nominee and the wonderful speaker this morning: Misty Waterflower."

Misty, trying to fight the grin on her lips walked from her line-up at the back, shook hands with Erica on her way, and approached Lance to receive the official document, and get a picture she was sure to wink at the camera for.

Ash felt his heart sore, and while there was still a faint drumming in his head, and his stomach was empty; it felt full of something. He smiled, watching her step back to allow her fellow gym leaders the same opportunity to be appreciated, high-fived a few of them on their way up and then stepped forward again to end the ceremony, and kick off the new year with the first battle tournament of the season.

When they cut away, back to the news casters, he felt very cold and empty. He clicked the television off, and then shifted forward to stare at his hands which he only realized now where still slightly painted.

"Chuu?" The mouse questioned, sitting in Ash's lap.

"Yeah, I know buddy." Ash muttered, scratching pikachu's back. Ash rose, grabbed a change of jackets, and stomped out of the room with pikachu on his tail.

Ash had to talk to Misty, this wasn't some small event they could brush under the rug, or pretend never happened. It was overly cliché, but they shared something. Ash's mom always said alcohol made a person more honest, and they sure shared a lot of... _something._

Turning the corner into the lobby, his thoughts were torn out of him by a shrill voice, a hushed whisper, and Serena approaching him from across the way.

 _Oh, great..._ just what he needed.

" I thought I would find you here." Serena smiled, hugging him affectionately. Ash kept his hands up, and lips locked in a frown. Noticing his odd behavior, Serena backed up and offered him a kind smile.

"I tried to talk to you last night, but you seemed pretty busy."

Unable to find the strength to speak, he blinked instead. Serena scratched the back of her neck.

"When you ran away from me at the party last night... I felt really bad..." She glanced, lips pursed. "It's a new year, I don't want you to be upset over me!"

She laughed nervously. "I didn't break up with you to hurt you—we..we just don't fit!"

"I know." Equally as surprised by his answer as she was; Ash's brows furrowed and he regained his ability to speak.

"I mean, I didn't know it before, and I was actually really upset about it but—you know. I shouldn't start the New Year off upset." Ash said, patting Serena on the shoulder, relieved it wasn't a confession of some sorts, asking for him back.

 _Relieved_. Ha. If Ash could tell himself twenty four hours ago he would be relieved of all emotions when Serena didn't beg for his forgiveness, he would surely laugh at himself.

"So we're okay? We can still be friends."

That one, Ash had to consider carefully. "Ahh, friends... someday." he laughed nervously, and then hugged her.

"But, I have somewhere else I'm supposed to be, so—uh, Happy New year?"

Serena gave him a slight arm pump of appreciation. "Happy New Year."

Ash was off without missing a beat. He wasn't sure what he was doing, and running was _not_ a good idea because he was three steps in and started heaving while Pikachu pat his back, but he was definitely going to do something. That something was what made his stomach burn and head fuzzy. Made the knots of fear feel like knots of pleasure. That _something_ he was missing and avoiding was _something_ Misty had—he just had to figure out what it was.

Part of him already knew, but he wouldn't cave to it until he knew for sure it was reciprocated.

 **XOX**

In a dark lounge in the league headquarters a few blocks from where the announcements were made, and the matches for the New Years battle tournaments were starting, Misty held a bag of ice to her head. Proud of herself; she kept it together despite the bright lights, or her stomach violently turning. She threw up for the better part of the morning following her speech—but that was routine hang overs for her.

Her throat was hoarse, and she sipped water gingerly in attempt to curb stomp the headache. Part of her wondered if Ash was as miserable as she was—but another part didn't dare even think his name. If it took years to move on from a childhood crush on that ridiculous trainer, she was in a world of hell if she thought this was going to be cured after one coffee and saying _it didn't happen_.

Like hell it didn't happen! Her body was still marred with the fragments of their ordeal. She was bruised from running a ruckus through the festival, aching from throwing up, and sore in all the right spots _below_ the waist. Not to mention the purple splotches on her neck. She wasn't going to be able to look into a mirror for a week, and it was all turtle necks until then!

Worst of all, Ash was probably standing with Serena some where, once again reigning in the New Year exactly where he was supposed to be, and _not_ making a complete mess of things alongside Misty. She was the only one starting from rock-bottom, so just like Ash said, it could only be uphill from here.

When the door to the lounge opened, she grunted a hello to whomever it was until a light fluff ball of yellow pounced onto her stomach and she sat up with a jerk.

"Bad pikachu, don't just on me right now." She groaned, brushing him off at first without surprise, and then immediately jerking backwards when she recognized what that meant.

Standing across from her in the small room was Ash Ketchum, having taken off his stupid cap, tucked it behind his back, and blinking questionably at her.

He looked around, there was no one around, and all the lights were off. He would be lying if he said it didn't help his hangover.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Avoiding direct sunlight." Misty answered, wincing as she adjusted to having pikachu in her arms. "Why are you here? I thought you were ditching league duties today."

Ash scratched his neck and made a face while approaching her. He very awkwardly took a seat beside her, all gawky movements and crossed his arms.

"Yeah... but I have no where else to be, and Brock has pretty much taken over our hotel room."

Misty snickered at that, watching his movements carefully. Good. He was as uncomfortable as she was.

"Violet's there, isn't she?"

"It's just so weird."

"I give it a week."

Ash laughed dryly. "I said a week and a half."

Misty snorted.

"You don't know my sister. She's as flaky as a kid with dandruff."

Ash winced. "That's gross, Mist."

"Eh, I blame the hangover. Apparently all of my good analogies are lost to the void of space that was last night."  
Ash waited a few beats before asking the burning question. "So...uhh... do you remember...anything?"

"Not enough to write a book about it." Misty put the ice pack back on her face to hide her expression from him. "I remember bits and pieces. Trying to win at those stupid carnival games, and watching the fireworks. Parts of Brock's-" she shuddered, "-sham wedding. Really, it's just a mess. It'll probably come back more as the hangover wears off."

"You think so?"  
"Oh, yeah, it usually does. The cool thing about hangovers is that it's like reliving stuff that you actually didn't do—so it's like memories that are more like movies."

"You sound fairly experienced." Ash grinned slightly and Misty shrugged.

"This unfortunately wasn't my first black-out rodeo. A few years ago Daisy and I put together a version of an under-water nut cracker. The entire cast was well-meaning schools of fish. When we recorded it, it seemed funnier at the time..." she trailed off, thinking of the memory, then shook it off. "I don't have the greatest track record."

"Thus the non-drinking."

"Precisely." Misty smiled at him, that glowing smile that made his heart melt and stomach hurt more than it already did. "But that's okay, this year definitely marks the worst—so like you said, it can only be better from here on."

"The _worst_?"

Misty inhaled, then closed her eyes. Pikachu, feeling the discomfort, crawled off of her while she adjusted herself for the confession. The light on her face faded and she was dark and gray when she answered.

"I slept with my best friend, and ran rampant through the Indigo League, publicly marred a billboard, signed off on a sham wedding between my sister and oldest friend, and _probably_ broke into a carnival and apparently did some questionable things that Lance asked about this morning—so _yes_ , socially and emotionally, this is the worst New Years yet and I'm frankly not too excited to remember all the little bits and pieces that are escaping me right now."

Ash wasn't sure how to reply, he wasn't expecting such raw honesty and emotion. She seemed genuinely disturbed by her actions. Now he felt a little guilty that he thought she would just laugh the whole ordeal off. It made coming here all that more important.

"...I mean... I can't say that it was all bad... I remember some of the better parts."  
Misty sat forward, challenging that statement. "Really? Like what?"

Only, when she sat up, his lips met hers before she could retaliate. Brushing her hair behind her ear, he ran his fingers through her hair, while cupping her neck and chin with the other. Tenderly kissing her in a way that made her eyebrows knit, and entire body shiver, she leaned in, arms glued to her sides and the buzzing memory looping back to her when he pulled away. Eyelids partially slit open, she watched him leaned in to peck her lips once more for good measure; then grin that stupid half-grin and chuckle. Her eyes slipped closed.

"Remember?"

 _They had been dancing with the rest of the group, since Misty had finally loosened up. They lost Daisy and Lily to the bar, but Brock, Violet, Ash and Misty were mostly just throwing their arms around to the beat of the music when the countdown to New Years began; there was no one else around._

 _Violet kissed Brock prematurely, before her sisters could stop her—not that any of them cared enough to now, but when Ash looked at Misty; she looked right through him and it shook him to the core. She took two steps forward, brushed her right hand against his cheek, then wrapped it around into his hair, the other delicately pressed against his neck, and then she brought his lips to her own, kissing him tenderly the very second the disco balls fell and the lights kicked back on in a vibrant display. When she pulled away, his eyes were lowered to a slit, and then she leaned forward, and kissed him again._

 _She winked. "For good measure."_

When she opened her eyes, she was staring at him again, licking her lips. The rest of the night fit together in pieces; their drunken stupor started there, but ended at her hotel room. They ate food, threw up for a few hours in random bathrooms; followed Brock and Violet for a probably-not-legal and _pricey_ wedding, and then well.

The rest was history.

She hugged him immediately; forget the kissing or anything else, she just needed to feel his arms around her again. The way his body fit so neatly against hers was magical. She leaned, and kissed his neck then squeezed him tightly.

An affectionate moment that was usually lost on Ash, he snuggled into the oddly familiar scent of her hair, and pressed his lips against it.

"See... it isn't _rock-bottom._ "

Misty was about to protest when he squeezed her harder. "There were a million ways this could have ended _horribly_ for the both of us."

"I mean, if you hadn't been here, Serena might have been and well—dodged that bullet."

Misty tried not to let her elation show, but he felt her up-turned smile against his chest when she spoke. "Dodged a bullet?"

"Yeah, according to her we don't fit." he nudged Misty gently, implying that they did fit.

"So...I'm rebound?" She chuckled and Ash frowned.

"You're never rebound—just a first choice hiding in plain sight."  
Misty chuckled. "Your mom always said alcohol makes you honest."

When they pulled apart Ash held up his faded red hands and laughed embarrassingly. "I'd say it does a little more than that."

Misty covered her lips with her hand. "We probably shouldn't drink for a very long time."

"At least not until the headache goes away."

Laughing, and finally in good, comfortable company, they cuddled on the sofa in the lounge quietly, until a subtle ringing emerged from her purse that forced her to groan. She sat forward, and snatched the device out of her hand-bag, to which Ash immediately snatched.

"My phone!" he cheered, turning off the noon alarm.

Misty turned up her nose at him. "Why do you have an alarm set for noon?"

"Lunch." Ash answered nonchalantly, unlocking his phone only to immediately set it down as if it caught fire. He tucked it away from Misty and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her head in close to his chest to thwart off what he imagined was going to be unimaginable rage.

"What?"

"It's nothing—just remember that A loves M and don't worry about it."  
Misty inhaled and pried herself away from his body, glaring at him. "What's on your phone, Ash?"  
"Nothing important."

She took it from him, nearly scratching him with her nails, and looked down to what he made his screen saver and her face turned beet red. She immediately set it down.

"You're a pervert."

"I am not!" Ash replied, equally as red while pikachu put his ears back. Humans were so weird. "You're just as bad as I am, you were _clearly_ posing!"

She hit him to keep his fingers from collecting his phone, and begrudgingly opened the photo gallery which started with the first major event of the night: Brock's wedding. It was in some small chapel where the dress didn't fit right, and Brock and Violet posed aggressively for pictures. Ash and Misty took a large amount of blurry selfies, some of them kissing, some of them smiling with Brock and Violet—there was one of them with Brock and Violet with the writing "just married" written on the bottom of the photo that Ash decided was a _great_ picture to share all over their social media accounts.

"Well." Ash muttered, but it didn't stop there. They jumped a barbwire fence to get into the carnival they had free passes for, Ash cut his leg, they had pictures of them breaking into the first-aid building because he hurt himself _after_ they were closed. Ash took grotesque pictures of Misty _trying_ to stitch is wound and laughing like a maniac before the wrapping and binding turned into fondling and grinding.

Misty swiped as quickly as her fingers would move through the section of _questionable_ clearly accidental photos that made her face feel like it was on fire, until they returned to the _normal_ antics that had them playing with fire, buying spray paint trying every carnival game, riding rides, getting violently ill—and finally Misty recorded the very moment this entire night spiraled into chaos.

Ash was tied with rope and cables and Misty was watching as he shook a spray can and painted over the billboard that they probably knocked the lights out on. They could both hear her maniac laughter and Ash rambling on and on about how much fun he was having and Misty screaming with laughter and shaky camera movements.

 _"I love you, too!"_

Sitting on the couch both Ash and Misty stuck up their nose, but Ash looked at her. She had pursed her lips stubbornly as the rest of the poorly taped video recorded Ash bounding down from the billboard, Misty helping him untie his ropes and the tiniest bit of the phone's camera that she had clutched in her hands catch a glimpse of Ash's full-swoop kiss.

The next few pictures needed to be burned along with the phone, but probably like he had last night, Ash removed the phone from an unsuspecting Misty and tucked it away into his pocket before she could protest. Her face was so red, she looked like a magikarp and it was far too cute not to kiss her once more.

"Delete those or I break your phone."

"You have to get it first."

Misty reached, but he caught her hand, guiding it someplace other than his phone, but close enough.

"Oh, that is not appropriate!" She whined, but didn't move away. The heat from her face practically burned away the headache left over from the night prior, and he chuckled deep and affectionately.

"You know... I think I have an office in here somewhere."

Ash practically wailed beneath him, and he felt so giddy to hear her so embarrassed. His face flushed red.

"Just give me your phone!" she laughed when he lunged forward, pressed her against the couch cushion once more, and kissed her neck past he scarf she tried to hide it away with. Her leg kicked up straddling him between her by the time his lips connected with hers once more, and her arms wrapped lovingly around his neck.

"Pi..." the mouse, in full disgust and panic flinched. "KA-CHU!" it screamed, sending off an electrical volt that stopped them in their tracks.

Ash fell off of Misty and onto the floor and they both squeaked. Ash was the first to sit up, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment and avidly apologizing.

"You're right, that was way too fast. Sorry buddy."

Scolding them, the mouse pushed and poked at them until they were both standing up, adjusting their clothes and being shoved out of the lounge by the mouse. Pikachu didn't care if they were sick or dying, he was _not_ going to witness humans mating. He had to witness more than his share of scarring material over the years and that was _not_ making his list. When they were out in the hallway, Pikachu jumped safely onto Ash's shoulder and pulled on his hair _just to be sure he understood_.

"Alright, I know. Hands to myself." Ash groaned, swatting small paws away from his face.

Pikachu let out a spark of electrical warning from his cheeks while Misty snickered, then ran her hand across the back of Ash's pants, then took off.

"Hey! Give me back my phone!"

Ash was not impressed when she threw it with a pitch off the second floor balcony and into oncoming traffic. She turned at him, finger raised and eyebrows quirked.

"It _never_ happened!"

"Misty—" He gasped. "I actually needed that—I could have—I can't believe you just _threw_ my phone!"

"I told you I would."

"Yeah, but you can't _actually_ do that! I had important contacts on there."

Misty put her hands stubbornly on her hips. "Then next time, you should delete the photos."

"But I _liked_ them! Plus now if it didn't break, someone else could easily get access to those!" he whined, and grabbed her into a hug, dragging her back into the building to chase down what was left of their dignity. Misty swore vividly as she did.

Start their New Year off in jail for vandalism. That would be great on her resume—everything else was just icing on the cake.

"Rock-bottom _Ash! Rock. Bottom!"_ She screamed as they both ran onto the street.

She may have been convinced it was rock bottom... but he didn't think so.

He couldn't have asked to start the New Year off with anyone else—now, if they could only get their story straight, that was another. Explaining this to his mom was going to be one hell of a show.

 **XOX**

 **Bonus:**

Ash had to deal with Brock, who was coming down from his spiral the same time as Violet, so when Misty returned to her hotel, it was by herself. They promised to meet up later and have dinner—no alcohol this time, and really figure out where they stood. With both of their careers blowing up, they didn't want to miss a beat and over dedicate, but boy, they sure wanted to commit.

Misty stopped to check herself over in the mirror before going back up to her room via the elevator. Her stomach was still tied in too many knots to justify taking the stairs, and she would be lying if the entire situation with Ash didn't leave her legs weak to begin with.

After retrieving his phone from oncoming traffic—to both of their surprise mostly undamaged- Ash deleted every questionable and blurry photo, except for two: an image of him kissing her while they were still at the carnival, and her kissing him when his hands were still stained bright red.

A trait he shared with his phone which had a red hand print, and one that she would later find out was shared with the bed sheets in her hotel room upon closer inspection. Overall, the images he decided to keep were cute, a little unorthodox, but affectionate. After Misty's approval he kissed her, answered a call from Brock; and they parted ways.

She was still over the moon and breathless when her back brushed against the cold metal of the elevator. She could hardly wait for what came next.

It stopped at the second floor, and three other people got inside of the small space—including Daisy who crossed her arms.

"I was _trying_ to be nice earlier, but I can't stand by."

Misty snapped out of her dopey stupor and pursed her lips. The other two people in the elevator kind of looked at one another, and Misty wished she knew them because she could have used them as a reason for Daisy not to rip into her.

"You used the condoms I gave you, right?"  
Misty nearly choked.

"W-what?"

"Before you and Ash ran off to your bed room I handed you a fistful of them, you _used_ them, right? I was a little worried because you almost missed your announcement this morning but you seemed so pissy this morning—anyways, I can't sit back just because you're mad at me. I have to know you were _safe_."

Misty stared so blank faced at her sister that the other two people in the elevator clicked the next floor so they could leave sooner. The air was surprisingly thin, and Misty was radiating a frost from her body. However, she was brave enough to admit when she...might have screwed up.

"...I...may have forgotten. I don't actually remember, really." though she desperately tried to pull up the memory of ripping open plastic packaging, but like everything else from last night, it was like pulling needles from a haystack.

Daisy threw up her arms.

"See! This is exactly why you shouldn't drink!"

Misty's head nearly tilted off of her shoulders, and the guys behind her desperately started pounding the button to flee this murder scene. Misty's brows disappeared behind her bangs and her eyes opened wide and hostile.

 _"Excuse me?"_

Somewhere, Ash was assisting Brock with trying to figure out the proper procedure of annulment, noting that both he _and_ Misty lost the bet. It barely lasted two hours before both Violet and Brock awoke from their drunken mess. In the distance, he felt a twist in his stomach that made his ears twitch, and his back straighten as he looked around.

"...something is wrong in the world."

Brock held up papers in unison with Violet, who both admitted they never made it past second base before passing out in a gross mess of bodily fluids.

"You're telling me! I'm never celebrating New Years again!"

Ash had a daunting feeling that Misty would feel the same way.

 **Author's Note:**

Pokeshipheart asked when I was going to update Mad Season, the answer was probably when I can update everything else; or when I have time to only write a one-shot. I know this isn't an update to one of my bigger stories; but it's the best I could do in the middle of moving! (Yes, I'm moving again. It's been a crazy year, when I thought things were finally going to go back to normal, things just got crazier ha)

I've recently wrote a list of the remaining requests that reviewers have made, and I'm going to start doing that!

THIS ONE WAS A LITTLE RAUNCHY, I'M NOT SORRY? I wanted to write a bit more out of my comfort zone, and I don't know how I did. ha. If there are any errors, I apologize. I'm really out of practice and I wrote this for a little over an hour and gave a quick proof read.

I love you guys. Happy new year. I hope to see you all more often. -hearts-

(Leave me a request for the new year and help me get into the swing of writing again!)

NINT


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